Continuing a series we presented some time back.
A picture that takes pride of place in many homes is the
family wedding portrait. Rows of fathers, mothers,
grandparents, uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters and cousins
pose elegantly on either side of the chosson and
kalla. Especially charming are the small children
seated along the bottom row, smartly dressed in their three-
piece suits and party dresses.
For most of the wedding, however, these children are doing
anything but sitting. Trying to get them to stop running
around and eat a proper meal is fruitless, as is figuring out
how much food to order for them. Meanwhile, uninvited
children brought by your guests are nibbling the icing off
cakes at the buffet. How can you plan -- much less save money
-- on kids at simchas?
Feeding Your Own
Most baalei simcha count their own and relative's
children in the catering estimate and turn a blind eye to the
waste. They let children sit where they want, eat what they
want and do what they want (so long as they're present for
the photo session). This generally works when you don't
expect many youngsters at the event.
A cost-saving technique which goes over well with small
children are personal `goodie bags'. Mrs. V. didn't order any
children's food at all at her eldest daughter's wedding.
After the chuppa, each child was handed a small tote
bag containing a roll and cold cuts, a bag of potato chips,
candies and a bottle of water. ("I gave water so they
wouldn't get stains on their clothes," Mrs. V. explains.)
That system also worked for Mrs. F. at her first wedding,
where many young relatives were in attendance. "We prepared a
tremendous amount of hot dogs in buns and packed them in cute
bags with ribbons, along with a drink with a straw and
candies," she describes. "Because the kids were little, they
all sat outside and had a great time. So did their
parents."
At Mrs. F.'s next wedding, the children were a few years
older. This time, Mrs. F. decided to make "children's tables"
and knowing young people's food preferences, served them only
bourekas, a couple of salads and side dishes without
chicken or meat.
It was a disaster. "The children saw their tables were
different and they felt like rejects," she recalls. "One
mother was ready to explode; her kids were so upset. But by
then it was already the middle of the wedding and there was
nothing I could do about it."
[Ed. What she could have done is warn these relatives in
advance and tell them nicely that they had decided that
children under the age of x would not be getting a meat meal.
Then parents and children would have been prepared.]
If you designate children's tables, you could ask the caterer
to serve each child plated food, such as hamburgers or shish
kebabs, suggests professional wedding planner Judy Bernstein
of Jerusalem Party Productions. But if kids are sitting
throughout the hall, order less food and ask the children's
parents [again, in advance] to split each portion two
ways.
One baalas simcha who had children sitting at nearly
every table tried this novel idea: she served spaghetti and
french fries with the meat course instead of rice and
potatoes. The children finished everything on their plates
and the adults enjoyed the change from regular simcha
food.
Making Them Comfortable
It's important that kids do have a place to sit, even if
they're not eating. Without a designated place, they'll feel
out of sorts just when you want them to feel part of the
simcha.
Before her brother's wedding, Mrs. E. asked the caterer to
set aside an empty table for hers and her siblings'
daughters. But at the overcrowded wedding, he told her, "You
don't open a table without food, because other people will
sit down and expect portions." He also nixed the idea of
adding extra chairs to existing tables, because that would
make it harder for waiters to get around.
As a result, Mrs. F.'s three youngest daughters took turns
sitting in her lap and leaning against her as she ate. "They
weren't eating, but when there wasn't any dancing, what were
they supposed to be doing?" she asks. "They saw everyone
sitting down so they wanted to sit down, too."
Children are expected to sit with their parents at Mrs. D.'s
weddings. The mother of 12 who has married off all her
children is more concerned that they have a good time.
"Children get pushed aside, understandably, because big
people want to see the badecken or dance with the
chosson and kalla. There should be something
for the little ones," she maintains.
So at one of her weddings. Mrs. D. paid $100 for a balloonist
to entertain her many grandchildren and children of relatives
and friends for a few hours. She always brings extra costumes
that kids can wear during the dancing and hands out
inexpensive masks, hats, whistles and other party favors that
she doesn't care about losing.
"I think it's wonderful that this is our children's
entertainment, so they don't have to look for entertainment
elsewhere," she says. "If we want Judaism to be enjoyable for
them, we must not make them feel like outsiders."
Other People's Kids
In chutz la'aretz, mothers who can find a babysitter
leave their baby at home; mothers who can't are stuck at
home. The sight of women bringing babies and other children
to weddings is unique to Eretz Yisroel.
Whether that's a plus or a minus depends on whom you ask.
Baalei simcha with large, extended families may say,
"The more the merrier!" But those who are counting pennies
are less than happy to see uninvited tots seated at the
tables, especially if the hall is already filled to capacity,
and especially with a setting in front of them.
"My sister from America married off her son to a girl from
Eretz Yisroel," relates Mrs. L. "She was shocked to see two
whole tables fill up with children of the kalla's
neighbors. The neighbors probably felt, `We're like family,
so we're bringing our kids.' But many guests were still
standing, waiting for seats." A diplomatic cousin asked the
children to get up for the adults.
Guests often don't realize how much children add to the
catering bill. One woman called up a baalas simcha,
saying, "I really feel close to you. Can I bring my ten-year-
old daughter to the meal?" The mother replied, "Sorry, we're
not inviting children." "But I really feel close to you," she
insisted. And she did bring her daughter.
The caterer had told the baalas simcha beforehand that
he charged by the table rather than by the plate. This woman
and her daughter happened to walk in late, and a table had to
be opened just for them. The result: the hostess had to pay
for ten extra portions, not two.
"I think many people who bring children to weddings have
never had simchas of their own, or else they would
realize the costs involved," says Mrs. E. On the morning of
her bar mitzva, she received a call from a neighbor
who was in mourning. "I can't come and my husband can't come,
either, so I'm sending two of my children (ages 9 and 11) to
take our place," she said. "It'll be a treat for them."
"We already told everyone we're not inviting children," Mrs.
E. protested.
"But you've ordered two portions anyway," the neighbor
persisted. "Besides, everybody brings kids."
How can you politely discourage uninvited children? "My
neighbor warned me to write `Mrs. and Mrs. Ploni' on the
invitation instead of `Ploni family', or else I would have
more children than adults attending my wedding," says Mrs. I.
"Boruch Hashem, that seemed to work."
If your chosson or kalla feel close to a
certain youngster (e.g. he tutored a boy or she was a girl's
counselor etc.), you could also address the invitation, "Mrs.
and Mrs. Ploni and Sorele." That way, Sorele's sisters and
brothers may be jealous but they'll know they're not invited.
One mother who has close relationships with many neighbors
got her point across by writing inside the invitation, "We'd
love to see your children for the dancing."
Surprisingly, the hosts themselves may also be to blame for
extra kids. In the moment of decision between chuppa
and meal, when guests who have brought along children are
trying to decide if there's enough room for them to sit down,
the kalla's mother may urge them, "You're staying, of
course!" The guest nods toward the child and the hostess adds
generously, "What's another plate?" Multiply this scenario a
few more times for the kalla's father and the mother
and father of the chosson, too, and you can easily end
up with another table of kids.
"I've been on the other side, so I know," Mrs. I. admits. "My
husband and I brought our seven-year-old twins with us to a
neighbor's chupa. My husband planned to take our son
and daughter home with him so I could stay for the meal.
After the chupa, the kalla's father told him,
"You were our eid (witness) -- you must sit down!" At
the same time, the kalla's mother said to me, "You're
not leaving, are you?"
Each was obliged to sit down with a child, and although Mrs.
I. put her daughter on her lap and let her eat out of her
plate, she felt embarrassed.
"How could I tell everyone at my table that the
kalla's mother told me to do this?" she sighed.
