When it comes to celebrations, my husband and I tend toward the basics. We own few Christmas decorations and only occasionally exchange birthday gifts. It suffices to have time to reflect on the meaning of and rejoice over special days with 'ohana and close friends.

So a few months before our daughter's first birthday, when asked about our plans, we mumbled something about wanting to keep it simple. After all, the tot might end up sleeping through half of it, and would easily be entertained by something as modest as a singular balloon.

At the same time, we wanted it to be fun for the guests who, for the most part and unlike our baby, would be able to remember the occasion. After racking our still sleep-deprived brains for creative entertainment ideas, we flipped through a few 'ohana-oriented magazines. Suddenly, advertisements we had not noticed before jumped out at us: clowns, pony rides, face painting, balloon animals. Portable miniature golf existed for Michelle Wie or Tadd Fujikawa wannabes; magic and science shows for curious minds, and even tea parties and day spas for little princesses.

A bubble show sounded easy and universally appealing, so I called to inquire.

"Sorry, we're already booked several months in advance," was the response.

In the end, we hired a talented caricaturist, which proved fun for adults and keiki alike. OK, so the artist did mistakenly get dropped off miles from the party location and had to be rescued by our considerate friend, but he was still able to provide treasured sketches for the guests.

A solo, unobtrusive entertainer fit with our goal of simplicity. Would the rest of the party elements do as well?

Choice of venue was critical. Using the entertainment room in our condo building was straightforward and practical; we brought the guest of honor down immediately after her nap and feeding, and returned her directly upstairs once the baby lu'au had concluded. A homespun slide show played in the background on the TV while guests consumed catered Chinese food.

Decorations consisted of a solitary "Happy Birthday" sign.

Even an overall party theme had been relinquished since the birthday girl could not yet voice her opinion, though the cupcakes did bear characters from Sanrio (Mom's choice) and Happy Feet (the preference of the maternal grandfather aka Grandpoppy).

Both sets of grandparents had flown in for their only grandchild's special day. Immediate family members sported conical birthday hats for identification, which either made us look like a group of clowns or a bunch of dunces, but our 1-year-old had immense fun discovering the elastic properties of the hat's cord with Grandpoppy's assistance.

Though the party planning still involved a number of details, our aim of sticking to the basics for our daughter's baby lu'au seemed to work. The guests, many of whom provided invaluable help throughout the celebration, had fun. The grandparents delighted in spending time with friends and relatives, and vice versa. Most importantly, the birthday girl enjoyed the festivities immensely, socializing until the finish, at which point we popped her upstairs for a nap.

We hope that her dreams of her baby lu'au were as sweet as our memories would be.

Monica Quock Chan is a freelance writer who lives in Honolulu with her husband and daughter.