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Sep. 27th, 2011 09:49 amA birthday is a weird thing, isn't it? One day you're so many years, old, the next day you are so-many+1 and people ask "how does it feel to be older?" and they don't really mean it, because honestly who can tell if you feel older over the course of just one day. (Unless happens to be a really traumatic day, and we just won't go there.)
We get birthday stress a lot at our house. It was worse when the kids were little - they'd bought into the changing age thing for a while, and the idea of change was hard on them. That you had to be bigger, act older, be stronger, more capable - it kind of freaked them out. So we'd spend some time talking about things you got to do now that you were 5 or 6 or 10, that maybe you hadn't be able to do before. With Alice we talked for a long time about things you might have to give up too. I got weirded out over their birthdays because, well, my babies, getting older. Also they'd made it to this age, and I still had them, and I hadn't broken them yet, always points in my favor. For years, like 15 or 16 years, I'd burst into random tears on Aerin's birthday. I am not entirely sure why. For a while it was mourning what I used to be, before I was a parent. Then it was mourning the baby she used to be as she grew up. That baby is gone, baby Alice is gone, as surely as time accomplishes anything.
My birthdays fade in improtance as I age. Turning 49 was cool, fifty not-so-much. Fifty one just feels redundant. Of course it isn't just the last three or four, it is all of them. Some feel more important than others. (I liked all the squares so far!, but I don't get another until I'm sixty-four, when I get to ask Al if he'll still need me, still feed me... ) Some, when I am not in the middle of PMS or migraines, I can celebrate harder. This one feels like a no-op - I think I'll slide past this year, and see how I feel next year at this time.
We get birthday stress a lot at our house. It was worse when the kids were little - they'd bought into the changing age thing for a while, and the idea of change was hard on them. That you had to be bigger, act older, be stronger, more capable - it kind of freaked them out. So we'd spend some time talking about things you got to do now that you were 5 or 6 or 10, that maybe you hadn't be able to do before. With Alice we talked for a long time about things you might have to give up too. I got weirded out over their birthdays because, well, my babies, getting older. Also they'd made it to this age, and I still had them, and I hadn't broken them yet, always points in my favor. For years, like 15 or 16 years, I'd burst into random tears on Aerin's birthday. I am not entirely sure why. For a while it was mourning what I used to be, before I was a parent. Then it was mourning the baby she used to be as she grew up. That baby is gone, baby Alice is gone, as surely as time accomplishes anything.
My birthdays fade in improtance as I age. Turning 49 was cool, fifty not-so-much. Fifty one just feels redundant. Of course it isn't just the last three or four, it is all of them. Some feel more important than others. (I liked all the squares so far!, but I don't get another until I'm sixty-four, when I get to ask Al if he'll still need me, still feed me... ) Some, when I am not in the middle of PMS or migraines, I can celebrate harder. This one feels like a no-op - I think I'll slide past this year, and see how I feel next year at this time.
