I was born at an early age. (<= My favorite "dad joke") --- I was a perfect, pink, alien looking thing with 10 fingers and 10 toes and a bow glued to my head. I was precious. And since that blessed day in May (26 years ago) people have celebrated my birth at regular intervals.
Typically the celebration is an annual event, but as I was my parents' first child, my first year had a few extra milestone birthday parties. The newness of life they had created was exhilarating to them, and they felt it important to recognize my adeptness to growing and aging... Due to lack of context, things like my aging from one month to two months (therefore doubling my life experience to date) seemed celebratory. I find it very similar to teenagers in relationships who celebrate anniversaries monthly, again due to a serious lack of context. But! To each their own. It's as great as any other reason to make a cake and set it on fire.
More than the cake was the parties though. When my parents celebrated my 6 month/half year birthday they made half a cake and other “half” portion themed treats, wrapped my presents half way, let me play with half-inflated party balloons, and sang me half the birthday song. The neighborhood was invited of course. It was legendary. And all this for a 6-month-old who looked like a chubbier version of the same baby they celebrated a month prior. You can imagine the kind of birthdays I’ve had to live up to. The bar was set many many years ago.
I’m certain my parents have often wondered if they’ve created a monster. (To clarify; the birthday parties are the monster, not me.) I've done everything from pinatas and tail pinning games, to camp-outs, to orchestrating an all out birthday-cake-in-the face food fight. (Yes, it was epic.) It's gotten to the point now that I have birthWEEKS vs. old fashioned birthDAYs. ... At 26, I'm a little exhausted as I think about how my birthdays have evolved.
Maybe it's my new-found "old age", but here's what my being reminiscent of old birthdays has helped me to discover;
At age 6 I would beg and plead with my parents to let me plan my own birthday party. I was more creative then. More enthusiastic. At age 26 I resort to dropping hints (beginning in April) in hopes that someone else will just surprise me, and plan my party for me.
At age 6 there were cute little invitations, sent weeks in advance, when people understood the phrase "RSVP". -- At age 26 we create facebook events or send a mass text message to everyone in our contacts list, maybe 24 hours prior to the event, counting on at least 25 out of 100 showing up.
At age 6 it was all about the themes and decorations (which would correlate with the invitations, by the way). Banners, streamers, balloons, the works. If any of my 6 year old friends came without a tiara, they were scorned. At age 26, there's no decorations. No theme. If someone were to show up in costume, they'd not be invited back. Ever.
At age 6 I knew everyone at my birthday party. In fact, I would invite my entire class on the simple truth: more people = more presents. At age 26, there's no gifts... And I'm really trying to figure out how I know that guy in the corner...
At age 6 a birthday card from grandma would suffice. At age 26, I have this compulsive need to log onto facebook 50 times in one day to see how many *friends (*people I haven't seen or spoken to since my LAST facebook birthday) remembered me and took the 10 seconds to draw up some original form of "Happy Birthday, hope its a good one!"
At age 6, maybe it's just me, but the "happy birthday song" seemed a little peppier, more bouncy. (Again, maybe this has something to do with a level of enthusiasm?) At age 26, it's all we can do to make it not sound like a ballad gone wrong. Very wrong.
At age 6 blowing out the candles wasn't a difficult task. At age 26 I just pray that one breath, minus spittle, will get the job done.
At age 6 I would shamelessly eat birthday cake and ice cream, lots of ice cream. At age 26 I chew on ice chips and imagine it tastes the way I remember cake to be. Even birthdays can't excuse my obsession for calorie counting.
At age 6 party games were simple, fun, and innocent. At age 26, without the Xbox or Wii and a few "hard drinks", we'd be bored out of our ever living minds.
At age 6, there were party favors. Pencils, noise makers, stickers. At age 26.... if I can't remember who the guy in the corner is, how am I supposed to remember to buy party favors?!
At age 6 I avoided birthday spankings like the plague. At age 26, I've got my special undies on hoping this year the spankings are a little more erotic. (After all, in the words of Gaga; 'if it's not rough, it isn't fun!')
You see what I mean? .... Birthdays are different so now, that's for sure.
I have concluded that there is at least one thing that hasn't really changed though. I'm still really adept at this aging thing. In truth, it can't be stopped. I'm going to get older, I'm going to continue to grow. But, I have to say, I think I'm doing it rather gracefully --
So, here's to me. Grab a piece of cake on fire and eat it in my honor, I'm happy to share.
Happy Birthday-MONTH to me!
-Mag
*This post is dedicated to B and J who picked up the hints, invited everyone (including the guy in the corner), and provided the drinks. Thanks for making 26 rock - so far! Love to you both.
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