Birthdays are kinda a big deal around here. We have them all the time; the simple fact is that we house a lot of people living here who have all been born. The birthdays aren’t a big deal in the “get a bouncy house and party favors and have all the kids here with a budget of the kids college fund” way. We have enough people in this family to technically constitute a “party”, so why complicate things? 

The big deal is of course the expectation, because what kid doesn’t ask nearly daily,  “how long til my birfday?” along with the layers of “things that must be done for the birthday” that seem to have organically developed and continue to develop as my kids have grown. 

Balloons, because we like all the thrills. There is a mandatory trip to the dollar store to get 6 balloons and they must be tied to the dining room chairs the day before the birthday. There is a “happy birthday” banner that must go up. A cake must be decided upon, flavor and decoration preferences, which means I need a grocery list and research for “how to decorate an owl cake”. 

The meals. Birthday breakfast takes the form of french toast or pancakes; someone got really adventurous and had eggs in a nest recently. Two dinner meals have somehow become the standard; I can’t remember how, seems like masochism on my part. The lucky birthday person gets to choose a restaurant for their actual birthday (always pizza, sometimes sushi), and this choice usually has mostly to do with if the waiter brings free cannolis if they know it’s a birthday (which of course they do know the second they get to the table and it’s shouted at them by 6 people and they don’t dare cross this pack of dessert wolves). The kids love this because we let them eat things we normally avoid, like pizza and wheat. Somehow eating copious amounts of processed, starchy foods and promptly throwing up at the restaurant doesn’t deter them the next year 🤷🏼‍♀️ 

Then there’s the meal I make for the Sunday-at-home-party. Nana and a couple of uncles might join us. This is where I make a requested meal, something favorite and the cake and ice cream show up, finally, seems like the celebrating has already been a few months long. We sing and have presents and everyone proceeds to go bonkers. It’s routine. 

Every year it seems like something new makes its way into the essential “birthday to do list”. My mind pictures the “Malcom in the Middle” episode where the dad (Bryan Cranston) is bowling and he notices his fly unzipped, so he zips it and gets a strike. For his next turns, he superstitiously repeats this and all the other random motions he keeps making, and after a few turns, he is hilariously repeating a series of bizarre and unrelated actions before he will roll  the stinking’ bowling ball. While there’s no superstition here, I feel like we’ve had random bits pile up, and the kids seem to be totally inflexible about changing anything up or letting things go. “We need to make hats” “we need to go to a fun park place” “we have to have Alden’s ice cream” “everyone has to make a card” “I didn’t get a cannoli, she shouldn’t either”. 

I can’t get mad at it, it’s lovely to see them celebrate their family and offer love in the form of external, manifested, meaningful actions. I’m just tired.