Forgotten Birthdays

I love birthdays. Adore them. Always have.

Though it makes no reasonable sense. And for such a typically reasonable girl, I still can't figure out why I love birthdays so much.

My birthday. My husband's. My kids'. Everyones'.

And yet, my birthday has never been a "big deal." I didn't have big birthday parties as a kid, other than for my 9th birthday. In fact, more often than not I was handed a gift while my folks headed out to something bigger and better.

My 14th birthday was completely forgotten.

My 18th birthday I ordered my own cake. And picked it up. And ate it alone.

My babes birthday track record has only been slightly better. And they've only gotten three under their belts between them. At least for Miss H's first birthday pretty much all of our family acknowledged it, even though not many people celebrated with us. There were people there of course, both of her paternal grandpa's, her Grandma T, and her Aunt C. Plus friends. So it wasn't a fail by any means, even though there were also people who chose not to come for the most ridiculously petty reasons.

Then her second birthday rolled around. More friends, less family. And more family didn't acknowledge it.

And then poor baby B. I'm just glad he's too young to have known or noticed much about his birthday.

Though I shouldn't have expected much, since most of my family didn't even meet him until he was closing in on 9 months old! We did plan his party on a Tuesday, but since most of our family hadn't bothered for H's weekend parties, I figured it didn't matter. His friends would still be there. And they were. And it was lovely.

But most of his family didn't even send him a birthday card. Or a text or a phone call. I don't expect people to buy my children gifts. It's not needed, and not expected. But some sort of an acknowledgement is always nice. Especially when you're family.

So H has a box of all her 1st birthday cards which is in great surplus. And B has a box...which has very few.

Don't get me wrong. I loved their birthdays. We had fun. People we love and care about showed up to celebrate and the kids had marvelous times.

But I have this hang up with forgetting birthdays.

Probably because as a kid mine was easily forgotten.

So now I've taken my issues and put them on my kids.

Because that's how it goes.

I know I need to be sure they're not even aware of those who don't acknowledge their awesome days of birth. They need to celebrate in their own glory, and be extremely happy and thankful for those who do acknowledge and celebrate with them, whether it be in person or in spirit.

Because regardless as to whether or not other people remember the miraculous days my children entered this world, the day each year that they've come full circle and are now a year older, their momma will never forget.

No matter how busy or stressed or tired or whatever, I could never forget their birthdays. And I would never leave them to celebrate alone or to bake their own cake (unless they wanted).

So really, everyone and everything else is just icing on the cake, right?