Birthdays are more special each year
With yesterday being my birthday, I am now one year away from the big 30.
By the time readers get this column, I will have had a nice steak dinner date thanks to my husband Jason. I will have spent an afternoon with Momma, picking out a nice present. And I will have another belly full of food prepared by two of my close friends.
And as the weekend closes out and I realize another year has passed, I will be happy.
Birthdays remind me of just how precious time really is. They tend to creep up on you the older you get. As each one closes, I am reminded of how quickly time passes.
Sometimes its seems like yesterday when I was turning six years old. I celebrated my big day with balloons, party favors, toys, candy, cake and neighborhood kids.
My childhood birthdays were the best. I awoke every birthday with a greeting fit for a queen. With sleepy eyes and clinging my baggy shirt nightgown, I would enter the living room to a family singing Happy Birthday. They would kid with me about how old I was. I would get a few special presents before my party. I would have a breakfast menu of my choice.
Before my birthday party even began, I would be overloaded with sweets, presents and hugs. At the end of the day, I would go to bed with a belly full of sugar and an armload full of toys that I didn’t want to put away.
As I got older and the idea of birthday parties melted away, Momma and I had a tradition that we kept for many years. On the night of my birthday, we would eat a nice dinner at Kyoto Japanese Steakhouse. It was a hibachi grill restaurant just down the road from our house in Jackson at the time.
As a mother now, I can understand why Momma enjoyed it so much. For one night, her pre-teen girl became her baby once again. The same kid who was too embarrassed to hug her goodbye at school that morning was all smiles as the cook prepared a meal in front of her. The same kid who thought she was too big to kiss goodnight would cling to her Momma’s arm as the grill fire reached for the sky. And the same kid who was slowly turning into a teenager would still get a little ice cream on her nose from the after-meal sherbert.
In my opinion, birthdays – no matter what the age – seem to transform people back into their younger years. Whether it’s getting a huge sombrero plopped on your head to having family singing to you at home over candles, you become a kid again just for a few seconds.
When it’s our son James’ birthday, I get more excited over his surprised reactions than anything else. I will look for those same emotions when he turns into the teenager who is too cool for Momma.
And with James’ future birthdays, my mind will always go back to the chubby-faced baby who placed you on top of the world because you let him blow out his own candles. He will turn back into the child whose hug after a present made you forget about everything else in the room.
Now I understand the excitement in Momma’s voice last week when she called me up on the phone.
“Well, what do you want to do for your birthday,” she asked.
For that one special day, I become her little girl again.
Being a mother now, I understand why.
Celebrating your child’s birthdays are a sweet reminder of how precious the days of our lives together really are.