Really? Seriously? Like, for real????? Come on, people! It's not that difficult! The date hasn't changed since last year, or the year before, or the year before, or the year before... In fact, its been the same date for 42 - er, I mean 35 years. I KNOW it wasn't a surprise cuz I have made a point of mentioning it several times over the last month. And yet somehow, my birthday seems to catch everyone off guard. I know I am not the only mom out there who consistently bends over backwards to make sure everyone's birthday is special and fun. Even for those who insist that "my birthday isn't a big deal so you and the kids don't need to worry about it", a cake is made and Happy Birthday is sung and homemade cards are passed out (because the one year I was out of town on his birthday, and didn't get to talk to him, I got a guilt trip layed on me. And here I thought birthdays weren't a big deal so I didn't need to worry about it...). So why is it that I spent my birthday this year stuck in a car for 7 hours with 3 kids and a dog, eating generic gas-station brand oreos and chocolate chip cookies? That, my friends, is a very good question.
To me, as I get older, it truly is about the thought that counts. This year, my mom thought about me with a card and a check, and my extended family thought about me when they all agreed to go out to dinner with us. Those are wonderful thoughts by people for whom I put forth an equal amount of thought on their birthdays - flowers, edible arrangement, card, etc. So I don't want or don't need more stuff, but everyone wants and needs more love, and to feel special, and appreciated in an above-and-beyond-the-average, "Its your birthday, party like a rock star!" kinda way. One year for me, it was breakfast in bed - my day was made, nothing more was needed, I was feeling the love. Another year, it was a letter from my son's school (folded up and stuck inside his homemade card) saying he had made it into his school's gifted program - cue the water works and proud mommy moment right there cuz that was all I could have asked for. So, you see? I'm not greedy or overly needy on my birthday.
And not to toot my own horn, but I don't think any of my kids have had a birthday without at least one cake. With dad's unpredictable military duties, sometimes we did a family birthday with small cake separate from the kid-crazy fiasco that has its own cake to share with hoards of neighborhood children who need a jacked up sugar high like I need more gray hair. Sometimes its a homemade cake of the size, shape, and flavor requested by the birthday kid. I don't do fancy, character shapes or anything that really requires any degree of talent, mind you. When I say size and shape, I really mean, 1 tier or 2 tier, circle, square or rectangle, or bundt. So I give options and choices, as all good parenting magazines recommend, but I don't give ones that will ultimately result in my epic failure to accurately capture their personal birthday vision and thus require years of therapy to get over how "my mom totally ruined my birthdays with grotesque, misshapen cakes which totally humiliated me and that my friends mocked for years after they stopped coming to my birthday parties altogether". Either way, I'm making the damn cake. Or buying a cake, which is requested almost as often.
And who doesn't love a homemade card? Every year, I sit down with my kids and have them make homemade cards for each other and for their dad's birthday, which they give him after we sing happy birthday over his homemade cake. It takes no time from me whatsoever to have them take a piece of white paper and a bucket of markers and make dad a card. Whatever they draw is perfect and gets folded up into an envelope. Cuz its not about a finished product, its about the thought and love behind it.
I also know that baking is not a forte for anyone in my family. So, not only do I not expect a homemade cake on my birthday, I am ok with not getting one. The simple reason for this is that I don't want extra work on my birthday. I don't want to do any work on my birthday, actually, but since THAT has as much chance of happening as my dog miraculously ceasing her shedding, I set my hopes and dreams to "realistic" and try to avoid the extra. Cuz guess who would end up cleaning up the kitchen after an attempt at making me a homemade birthday cake, anyway? Yup, me. Wanna know how I know this? Because the only time an attempt was made at making me a homemade cake, I was in the kitchen cleaning up from it, even after I was informed "And we even cleaned everything up!". How does one get flour on the underside of the kitchen cabinets? Just curious. This is why I have always made my own birthday cake. Imagine the years of therapy required if I made my kids make their own birthday cakes..."Nope. Sorry. I don't have the time. If you want a cake, you're gonna have to make it yourself." And yet, its perfectly normal for mom to make her own. I have learned that when I don't make my own, I don't get one. I tested this theory once the year before the "we'll make you one and clean up ourselves" fiasco. No cake that year. When the husband and kids asked about it, I very pointedly said, "Well, you guys don't make your own birthday cakes, so who made me mine?" Crickets. Literally, crickets.
So you see, I'm not picky. And once we all had piled into our mini-van on my actual birthday, to begin the 7 hour drive home from our holiday visit, it became apparent to me that I wasn't getting a cake or cards. And for the first 4 hours of the ride, I was totally ok with that. It didn't bother me, wasn't on my mind, I wasn't sighing in a martyr-like fashion waiting for my husband to ask what was wrong so I could tell him how hurt I was - because I truly wasn't. It was fine. Until we stopped for our dinner break. Which was a drive-thru McDonalds and a gas fill up. Once everyone was all potty-ed up, I decided to splurge on a special treat and get some cookies to share in the car. Not something we usually do but something fun as a surprise. My husband passes me as I am on the way to the check out and asks me what I'm getting. When I tell him, he rolls his eyes and gives me his look. The one that says "Really? The kids totally don't need that crap."
That was when it hit me. This is my birthday. I'm not getting a cake. No one gave me a card. I've been in a car for 4 hours with another 3 to go. And you are giving me a hard time because I want to buy cookies?!? Not even BRAND name cookies - but generic gas-station brand cookies?!? That was when I informed him that since no one had provided a cake or any sort of "treat surprise" for my birthday, I was NOT going to feel guilty for buying cheap, gas station cookies to share with my kids on my birthday. NOT. HAPPENING. Once we were all back in the car, I reminded them all that we only do treats like cake and ice cream on birthdays, so if they were at all interested in having a 5th day each year when that happened, ONE of them might want to take the initiative to make happen on MY birthday from now on, because I was no longer going to be making cake on my birthday for anyone but me. If they have to make their own cakes on their birthdays, they can decide who to share them with. So the next birthday cake I make for myself will be eaten in its entirety by me.
Its not even so much about the cake. I'm not that huge a fan of cake. Stick a candle in a bag of chips with a side of Oreos, however, and I'm aaaaaaaall over it!! I just want them to understand how important it is to be on both sides of the "its the thought that counts" equation. They feel great when someone goes out of their way to make them feel special, so I want them to know its important to go out of their way to make others feel special too. I totally get that they are kids and need an adult to step in here and lead them down this road. Which I think I am doing when I have them help make a cake and cards for their dad. I just think I shouldn't be the only one teaching them this lesson and making it important. Did I mention that I was the only one who didn't get a gift from my oldest son this year? Because he didn't have anyone to take him to the store to shop for me. This is why I have gas station cookies in the car for my birthday.
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