For the most part, I have stopped counting birthdays, or at least stopped putting any importance into them. Other people tend to note them though–as they did this week. I loved every minute of it, too.
When I was a kid though, I knew that I had the best birthday ever. It didn’t matter that my younger sister’s birthday was the day after mine or that we shared most of our parties.
June 25 is exactly halfway to Christmas.
Back then, we got presents only on our birthdays and on Christmas. That was it. If we managed to earn money with odd jobs or good grades (oh, yes, Dad paid us for A’s), then we could spend our money however we wanted.
Twice a year, we got presents. It was a big deal to have to wait. There wasn’t this current trend of buying something here and there just because the toy was cute, small, and cheap. Face it, kids today have and get a lot more than we did in the 1970s and 1980s.
My wait was exactly the same on either side. I made the comment about having the best birth date ever to my girls, Mockingbird and Armadillo. My father-in-law laughed about it. “Who thinks about that kind of thing?”
I grinned at him. “I did as a kid! I had to wait exactly six months between celebrations. I always thought I was the luckiest kid in the world.”
Now, my expectations have changed. I don’t care about a pile of presents anymore–especially after we just bought a new dishwasher. Instead, I am filled up with the love that my family and friends pile on with phone calls and birthday comments on Facebook and handwritten birthday cards from the girls. I know that I am very blessed.
What about you? How long do you have to wait between your birthday and another celebrated-with-presents holiday? What do you most look forward to when it’s your birthday? Do you celebrate for days or ignore them completely?