This worked out nicely for Mommy because somehow during our potty training phase I got it into my head that once I started using the potty, and after my birthday, I would be going to Disney World. It started out innocently enough with Mommy saying something about Cinderella and other princesses wearing big girl underwear, and escalated into Mommy promising me a trip to Disney. So Mommy was feeling like a terrible parent about to dash the dreams of a young child - not to mention any trust I would ever have in her - in realizing that there was no way we could swing a trip to Florida any time before the baby comes. So she told me that Cinderella could come to our house instead of us going to her house right now. (In my defense, I bought this trade-off because I am just turning three - give me 6 months and it won't be such an easy sell.)
Anyway, that is how I got a birthday party at my house (which probably cost more in money and aggravation than a fiesta at El Arca) with 10 buddies, a face painter, a pinata and an hour long visit from (a very Mexican looking) Cinderella who performed a little show, danced with me, sang me "Happy Birthday," played in my room and carried me until my heart's content.