It’s Immy’s third birthday next week. Her last two birthdays have been celebrated with small parites, involving friends and family. A few sandwiches, some bubbly for the parents, crisps and sausage rolls – the usual stuff (all organic – not!).

Last year we went to town and even made up some party bags.

But last year we nearly didn’t have a party. It was only thanks to relatives who gave us Marks and Spencer vouchers for our Christmas presents that we were able to buy the food.

This year it’s been even bit trickier Nearly all Imogen friends, most of whom (due to my  insistence on booking my ante natal classes and post natal NHS parent craft clases earlier than most) are at least a month older than her.

So we’ve been to a few parties the last few weeks – and all of them have been (compared to what we can afford) quite extravagant affairs involving soft play centres, or playgroups with lots of attendant toys.

There was one exception, one friend booked a bowling alley for her daughter’s ‘do – and despite our initial skepticism it was actually really cool (the children get a little help bowling of course!)

These parties will have cost their parents at least 120 quid.  After much soul-searching Andrew and I decided we would have to do a party at ours. The most we can afford to spend is 50 quid and even spending that is probably going to break the bank.

We’re not poor, just that as two self employed people who’ve only been full time self employed for three months a piece we’ve had a quiet December. Bascially four weeks where we didn’t really earn much.

So we can’t really justify paying out anything for Immy’s birthday.

Next year I promise my darling Immy we’ll do something special for you.

Update on Immy’s coat:  to the two ladies who commented on my last blog.

I was tempted to call the police, but I’m not going to cause a fuss and instead see this as a lesson learnt.

But I’ve not forgotten about it.