Be the Party Aunt You Wish to See in the World
How to be an even cooler "cool aunt"
When I had Juniper, one of the little joys that I feared I’d have bid farewell to was the pride I felt in being an (I thought) exceptional Party Aunt.
The Party Aunt, for the uninitiated, is the female analog of the Fun Uncle, with better stories and less teaching kids how to burp the alphabet, and a more grown up version of the Cool Older Cousin, except with less French braiding and a nicer car. Sometimes a party aunt “doesn’t drive” because she lives in a city where a car isn’t necessary. Sometimes she lives overseas. She often attends family events solo, or with a boyfriend (or girlfriend) that is never seen or mentioned again. She’s “fun” and her nieces and nephews celebrate when she arrives because that means the celebration is getting kicked up a notch; however, she is not always reliable, almost always running 15 minutes late and doing things like missing connecting flights and sneaking into the school band concert halfway through, taking a seat in the back row. She’s vivacious, not worn down by the cumulative day-to-day of parenthood, and can seem a bit stunted– she dresses a little like a teenager and knows all the new slang (even if she doesn’t try to use it, which she shouldn’t). She loves her niblings dearly and gives great presents due to all of the disposable income she has as a result of not having children of her own. A gay uncle– or person of any gender– can be a party aunt, as can a close friend of the parents who is not related by blood. The only qualifications are being fun, beloved by the kids, at least a little bit fancy, and not tied down with her own parental commitments. In the words of my friend Caroline, a self-admitted party aunt, "Party Aunt is a state of mind."
My mother had a Party Aunt (Aunt Bess) who was in the military and spent many years living in Japan and would send back incredible troves of gifts like delicate paper umbrellas and a bright magenta silk robe that was too nice for anybody to wear that I was sometimes, under adult supervision, allowed to touch and admire. She never married, a party aunt to the end who I realized, years later, might have been a gay woman living her best life given the social constraints of her era. Rest in power, possibly-gay Aunt Bess.
[There are some who would disagree with my characterization of Party Aunt. Chicago Party Aunt, for example, is a married middle aged middle class woman who sort of slops Chicagoland, doing middle aged white woman gone wild things like throwing up in the bathroom of a Buffalo Wild Wings or closing down the Hange Uppe. There’s also the character played by Kaley Cuoco in The Flight Attendant, a version of the party aunt who is a self-destructive boundary violator who causes family drama. My version of the present-day Party Aunt does not cause family drama or get alcohol poisoning at first communion parties, she has student loans and sometimes runs out of free articles to read on NYMag.com. Several types of party aunt can coexist. It’s a big tent, the Party Aunt tent.]
Prior to becoming a mother, I was the Party Aunt of my family, evolving from troublemaker to good-intention-haver by the time my brother and sister-in-law had their two little kids and my sister and brother-in-law had one. Family gatherings were loud and chaotic enough that my contribution to the chaos wasn’t disruptive, I was responsible enough to take some of the kid-watching burden off of my siblings and their spouses, I had a lot of patience for being interrupted in the middle of a conversation with my brother about, say, an interesting case he’d gone to trial on by a five-year-old yelling “AUNT ERIN AUNT ERIN AUNT ERIN! I-I-I-I-I-I-I jumped off the picnic table and landed on the grass right next to some dog poop but I didn’t touch it!” because I was rarely issued urgent breaking news updates from five-year-olds during my regular non-aunting life. I would buy them absurd gifts like rocking horses shaped like flamingos and as many Brio train accessory sets as I could find (after getting pre-approval from their parents), and then I’d play with them for hours. Josh, born to be the Fun Uncle, would be busy doing stuff like twirling them around by their arms and legs or throwing them into a swimming pool. We even have a Party Dog, an Entlebucher who loves kids and never gets tired of playing fetch.
I regret nothing about the way I fit into my family during much of that time, except I wish that I saw more of them. But now that I’ve moved into a different season of life, I have a better understanding of how some of the things I did or didn’t do might have made life easier or more difficult for my siblings, who were just trying to be parents without going insane. In that spirit, here are some lessons from a recent former party aunt, for those who want to up their game.
A good party aunt brings gifts, a great party aunt pre-vets the gifts. There are gifts that parents absolutely hate and do not want in their homes, and most people without children do not understand what those gifts are unless they ask. Double check on gifts before you put a giant bow on them and hand them to little Clara or Asher or Brinxleigh or whatever name your sister gave her kid. A good rule is nothing living, nothing messy, nothing enormous, nothing that makes a lot of noise unless you get explicit pre-approval.
A good party aunt goes to where the baby is, and doesn’t expect the baby to go to her. Traveling with a baby is… whew. Not easy. I can’t imagine traveling with more than one kid. What do you do, strap one to the roof? Seems hard. At any rate, “When are you going to bring the baby over?” is an annoying question to ask a new parent if you are the party aunt. You go to the baby, and you bring the parents takeout or a bottle of wine, which you offer to break into if it is after noon when you arrive.
A good party aunt doesn’t wake the baby up, a great party aunt plans her visits around the sleep schedule. Another thing I didn’t fully grok before having a baby: there is no agony that is exactly like the agony of parenting a baby with a messed up sleep schedule. Do not negotiate with terrorists or babies that need a nap (there is an overlap in that Venn diagram). Do not try to convince parents of little babies to skip or push bedtime; you getting some baby snuggles is not worth parents dealing with days of readjustment back to “normal.” It is a cumbersome and rude ask. If you are babysitting, do not let the kid stay up for hours past their bedtime (especially if you’re dealing with a baby or toddler); it is not a fun treat for your nephew, it is a headache for the parents. Some babies are great sleepers and are extremely adaptable. Most are not. Assume your little nibling is not one of these magical unicorn children unless you’re told otherwise.
A good party aunt loves photos of their nieces and nephews; a great party aunt still gives a shit about how the parents are doing and checks in for reasons besides wanting to see the little ones. My kid is a lot newer and more interesting than I am. I get that. However, I did not stop being a human being who appreciates music recommendations and inside jokes after giving birth. Even though you're a party aunt, your primary relationship is with the parents of the child, not the child, so don’t let that languish.
And a note to parents: cherish your party aunts. Do not belittle their problems or treat them like lesser adults because they made a different decision than you did. (It is possible that people without children understand what it feels like to be dead-tired. Don't be a dick.) Do not question their lifestyle choices if they’re not hurting anybody. As I’ve written before, adults without kids– party aunts, fun uncles, etc– are an important part of your parental ecosystem, and the more trustworthy adults your kid has who care about them, the better. Especially since the party aunt is going to be the ones to sit around and watch Encanto with your kid for the 500th time at Thanksgiving while you sit and enjoy a meal in peace and quiet for the first time in months.
Screengrab via The Flight Attendant / HBO Max