We’re rapidly approaching significant birthdays for two of my daughters - the youngest is about to hit double digits as middle daughter becomes a teenager - so I’m trying to work out the logistics and viability of their respective celebrations. It should be quite straightforward, particularly as I’ve been through it a few times before, but things are never quite that simple.

At their ages birthday parties for my son were easy; we lived in a house with plenty of space, close to a wide sandy beach and the sun shone 362 days of the year, so the planning was almost entirely focused on calendar co-ordination (avoiding sporting fixtures) and food. Boy friendships are also generally more straightforward. Without much of the emotional drama that surrounds girls, I could be fairly confident that the group of children my son wanted to invite when we started planning a party would still be talking to each other as the event approached. Until she was 12 my eldest daughter’s friendships were also no trouble; a bubbly and confident child, she considered all 150 children in her school year her friends, with the exception of one or two who were especially close. Preparation for her birthdays was often a test of my negotiating skills as I tried to limit the guest list, although one of the advantages of living with guaranteed sunshine was that her parties could be hosted outdoors. One of my favourite party memories is of her 11th birthday when, having spent two days sculpting fondant figures and accessories to decorate the cake equivalent of her pool party, I rushed her friends into the shade of the clubhouse to hastily sing ‘Happy Birthday’ as the jelly pool in the centre of the cake became a puddle, then rushed them back into the pool before the hot tiles burnt the soles of their feet. By her 12th birthday, her friends were a mess of hormones, cat-fights and frenemies, so I decided to call a halt to the parties and instead took my daughter and one friend to see Justin Bieber in Dubai.

My youngest daughter, a human Hallmark card, is still at an age where she loves and is loved by everyone - like a ray of sunshine her infectious smile makes her an easy inclusion for most friendship groups in school and I think as long as we don’t move between now and her 16th birthday her new friendships have the potential to weather the hormonal storms to come. Because we’re still at the ‘can I invite the whole class’ level of party, my planning for her is all about scale and entertainment although there limited options in England in December (a disco is looking like the safe bet).

It’s my middle daughter’s birthday that’s causing me some concern. A fiesty exterior belies her kind heart and empathetic soul and her expat confidence probably highlighted her as an outsider in our small village primary school where generations of family friendships sit behind most of the children. I’m sure it didn’t help when she decided she wanted us to host a ball for her 11th birthday (I realised too late that I wasn’t the only one she’d shared that brilliant and unrealistic idea with)! The transition to a large secondary school has given her a bigger pool to fish from but has also led to some of the children closing ranks around their historic groups, leaving her a bit adrift. I know she’ll find her tribe eventually but in the meantime I’m hatching a plot to help. I can’t gift her friends (none of my local friends have children the same age) but I can arrange an event so fun that everyone wants to be on the list next year. Problem: this goes against everything I believe in and is at odds with what I've taught my children, that you can’t (and shouldn’t) buy friends. I’m also a bit concerned that it could backfire in some stupendous way, given that she’s in ‘that’ year group of girly hormonal horror. But still I’m thinking, a day out for her and 4 or 5 friends, not so blow-out that it stamps her a show-off but enough that they’ll want to talk about it? Go-Karting, Escape Rooms, a trampoline park and a ball are all being considered!