Happy Birthday to Me!

Oh, yeah. I guess I'm another year older. I don't feel any different than I did yesterday. Last year was a "milestone" birthday, so this year isn't anything extraordinary. What makes adult birthdays different than those we eagerly anticipated and celebrated when we were younger?

When I was a kid, I don't think I actually marked off days on a calendar, but I'm sure I paid special attention to the date and had my own internal mental countdown. Then, I know I would look forward to those extra special birthdays: finally a teenager, able to get a driver's license, old enough to drink and vote, no longer being a teenager. After that, the big birthdays are spaced farther apart. I remember 25 being kind of a big deal, as in a quarter-century. After that, they're all kind of the same except for the "0" years. 

I probably wore something special to school on my birthday. (Of course, back then, I don't think I even had a pair of jeans, and we wore dresses on a regular basis.) And there was usually a new piece of clothing or an accessory to wear the next day. I didn't exactly dress up today, but I did put on some nicer pants and a new shirt instead of just a sweatshirt and jeans.

After supper we'd get ready for the family party, including grandparents, aunt and uncle, and the cousins. It wasn't really a huge group, but in hindsight I kind of wonder how we all fit in the house. I suppose the kids went to the playroom for most of the evening. I think those events are when I started to really appreciate the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I had one party for school friends, I think in first grade. My roommates threw a surprise party for me in my senior year of college (which was pretty awesome!). In my 20s, I suppose I'd go out for drinks with friends. My parents would drive over almost every year for a birthday visit for more than 20 years. Today, I had lunch with the girlfriends, which is just as meaningful as any big party.

I couldn't say that I used to get a special birthday supper. But Mother was kind enough to serve something other than liver and beets, I'm sure. And we each had our own birthday cake. (Mine was confetti angel food.) One year she even sent a "scathing" letter to the manufacturer because there was no little packet of confetti in the cake-mix box! She'd often bring a cake along on those visits after I moved away from home. Sometimes, as an adult, we'd go out to eat for something special if we felt like it. Tonight, I had my favorite pizza. And I made a cake for myself just because I had a hankering for some.

A side note: I started writing this Tuesday night but was too sleepy to finish. Now I'm trying to remember what else I wanted to say!

I suppose the gist of what was running through my mind is this: Childhood birthdays may have included cakes with candles, parties, wrapped gifts, and mailed cards. Later in life, we may have shared dinners, cocktails, and casual gatherings. These days, birthdays for me are quite low-key. Some actual cards to hold and read, some electronic greetings. "Happy Birthday" sung over the telephone. Gathering with friends on my Facebook page.

Several people wished for me a fabulous day with a reminder to do something extra special just for me. My birthday wish for myself? That I continue to celebrate each and every birthday. Each one is a gift that should be treasured. Every day should be cherished! And I think I should do something special for myself every day, too. It could be an extra piece of chocolate, a favorite book, a phone call to a loved one, a personal positive affirmation, or just a silent moment of reflection. 

I don't need candles to blow out. I just need to blow away the dust of monotony and complaceny. I need to celebrate ME!