Birthdays

Yippee. My birthday is approaching. I am so excited. Not really. But on the up side of things I don't have a desire to lock myself in a room and cut off all contact on this day. My father is sort of like that. As I age and try to figure out what makes that man tick the birthday and father's day self-beatings he administers boggle my mind.

Don't get me wrong I totally get not wanting to be the center of attention with lots of crazy hoopla or ever worse a surprise party. I am on board with hiding and invisibility but my dad seems to want to treat his special days with disdain and emotional violence aimed at himself. What I have realized as a parent though is birthdays are so completely not about the person who has been birthed, not as a child, not as an adult, not ever -- with the possible exception of tween years when a child may plan the party and take charge of it without parental influence and vision. Those are awesome years of oblivion and bliss along with utter social panic. Before that age a kid may envision their party but the parent controls it. "Oh, Susie, you'd like a clown who makes balloon animals and a bouncy house? Great. The trampoline with a bag of .89 balloons is all set for you!" Parents envision their child's party and likes more than the child. Beyond childhood and tween years most well adjusted teens are not interested in that hoopla and I don't care what Vh1 has to say about that.

But most certainly the day of birth is not about me the mom. Now there do exist adults who enjoy their day and take control of it planning parties and what- not and....yea, I know it's annoying, isn't it? There is a reason for that. Birthdays are about making those around you feel good. Most especially if you are a parent. So this year I finally get it. I submit. Bring on the tacky restaurant singers and the free sundaes. Bring on the homemade gifts and tshirts bought last minute at target. My kids will absolutely love it. And so will I.