Now, however, birthdays are less of a time of celebration, and more of a time of contemplation and relaxation. Every once in a while the big party with friends is nice (my thirtieth, for example). Mostly, however, all I want is some quiet time, a cake, and a little pizza. Old habits do die hard.
So what does the good birthday look like to me? This latest one could not be any more idyllic.
Wake-up! It’s your birthday!
Though we are in Lent right now (which means no caffeine for me), the day’s wake up went well. No unhappy kids, and hey, I have the day off of work too. Who needs coffee when you get a special pancake breakfast with the family? The flash of inspiration from D was memorable.
Hey kids!
Have you ever seen the Garfield and Friends cartoon? No? Look it up on YouTube, it was funny…when I was eight. Anyway, since you haven’t seen it, you won’t understand the clown reference, so we’ll move on.
My first stop of the morning was in C’s preschool. I have never had a chance to attend for any length of time, and was looking forward to seeing how the place is managed. Fourteen four-year-olds in one room sounds like sheer chaos.
Of course Berta was in attendance, so I ended up being drawn up to the front. I fielded questions about guide dogs, prosthetic eyes, fire alarms, and was even sang Happy Birthday by fourteen piping voices. Sorry for interrupting class, teachers, but hey, it was fun.
Food and Relaxation
A quick follow-up at the ENT for J confirmed no physiological issues, which was good. Then it was off to Panera Bread for lunch. Just a tip, if you ever think of opening a sandwich place, you will fail if you don’t have outstanding bread. Great bread means great sandwiches, and I will pay well for great sandwiches.
So lunch is done, and it’s time to head for home. After all, there is a cake to bake! And we have not yet reached the relaxation part of the day.
Walk through your grocery store and you’ll find all kinds of boxed cakes. Keep walking, ignore them all. Make the thing from scratch, and enjoy the results. Besides, the mess that kids make in baking is fun! Just remember, I do not like chocolate.
So three enter into the kitchen to do battle with food processors, batter, and a pan. I, on the other hand, grab the sticks and launch into a drumming session. The relaxation has begun. Even with interruptions, I probably played for an hour-and-a-half, and though the magic wasn’t there most of the time, I had sparks of feeling good.
February?
No surprise, since I’m writing this entry now, my birthday is in February. That usually means cold wet days when you live in the Pacific Northwest. This birthday, however, was brilliantly beautiful! I didn’t look at the weather to get the high temperature, but it was at least in the sixties. In fact, it was warm enough that after baking the cake, D went out to clean the car. C was allowed to (under supervision) skate over to the neighborhood park on her own for the first time, where she shortly fell in with friends. I’m still drumming at this point, but the sun is starting to call.
J finally catches wind that his sister has gone over to the park, and now he won’t be stopped. So D drops everything and the two of them wander across the street. The house is quiet, except that I’m still drumming, and the sun is calling.
Finally I give up the sticks, grab a guitar, and spend the next forty-five minutes sitting on the front porch steps, barefoot and in short sleeves, playing guitar and watching the kids play. Could this really be February? The relaxation sets in.
The Party at the End
February was warm that day, but the sun goes down early. We were all back into the house by 5:00. I had an hour of homework to do, including a conference call, and then it’s time for my special birthday dinner, cake, and watching the Olympics. Though I had to do some “parenting” later on in the evening (C is having issues listening to instructions lately) the evening was quite nice. The dinner, of course, was pizza…
In Conclusion
My most recent birthday marked what I call my entry into middle age. I am now one-third of my way through what I call my expected lifespan. While I look back on the first third with happiness, I look with greater emotion to the next third. It excites me to no end to look at the potential and possibilities. In the next third my children will grow up, and probably start families of their own. My wife and I will find fulfilling careers and unknown talents. I will play at least one guitar into oblivion, and will love every last note. In short, bring on the middle ages. I can’t wait!
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