Can you remember when birthdays were counted down? You’d see the calendar, know that next month it was here…calculate what would go on the list for gift ideas, think about the flavor of cake, imagine the people watching you blow out the candle? Yeah, we were allowed one and it was to be on our piece. My mother didn’t want any kid blowing spit on her piece, or anyone else’s. lol Heck, in preparation for the big day, I would even tell anyone who’d listen that 20 days from now was the day. THE day. And when it arrived, I’d revel in it all day. It was MY birthday. The day would come and it was like being able to swim all day in a pool. I was special. It was all about me. Yep, it’s my birthday!! NOW, how do I feel about my birthday?
Pretty much. And I’ve been this way for some time. I can’t even tell you how old I legit am. We don’t talk about it, in fact. My kids stopped asking after some of them got older than I admitted to being when they were younger. But today we celebrated my son’s birthday. He turned 22 years old. And the birthday crash has already hit him. We drove to visit and took him out to eat to celebrate. I bounce up to him and ask, ‘has it been the best day ever?’ He rolls his eyes and accommodates me with a ‘yeah, sure has.’ And just like that, he went from the little boy who waited at the register at Toys R Us to get his birthday crown and balloon with the announcement throughout the store to wish him a happy birthday, for anyone who ran on to him, to ‘yippee’, in the most sarcastic tone he could muster. Luckily, my younger daughters were along and of course they still live in the village of birthday magic, so they demanded the song to be sung, the candle to be lit and blown out, and all the silliness that goes into theirs. So the question remains…where does the air get drained from all the joy? Surely birthdays are the same. The same hours are counted, the same cake is eaten, and the same gifts (age relevant) are given.
Two thoughts could be formulated: One, people want to stop aging. Not get older, but stop aging. This is for the older crowd, obviously. The ones who look in the mirror and see more evidence of the face sag, the over populated white hairs moving in, and neck skin that used to have more elasticity. They would just like for the day to go by without drawing attention. I get it, and I haven’t turned the corner of middle aged yet. Or have I? What are the figures on that again? Just everyone mind their business…nothing to look at here. No need for cake and balloons. Just throw me some cucumber slices and a jar of the latest ‘wrinkle-me-not’ cream. Don’t size me up and compare how I looked last year to this one. Just let me eat cake and watch it roll to my thighs in peace. Two, the mind of the child is so much more fun. They really do believe the day is all about them. They dream at night of everyone caring. That it truly is a big deal. And maybe it’s more of one when you’re younger. I don’t see too many parents of twenty five year olds planning a day at an amusement park and inviting his/her closest seven friends. Maybe it’s a reminder of just how many people care enough to dole out $7 bucks for a card and wish you happiness. Of course there’s Facebook now, so the birthday seekers are happy there, getting the stream of wishes. Perhaps cards, along with pinatas, will one day be extinct. Who knows why the decline in anticipation and celebration. I just know it’s sad when it’s your actual kids that aren’t excited about the big day anymore.
