Today Sarah, my four year old, celebrated her birthday. Yesterday she was three, today she is four. She's beautiful of course. She's smarter than hell. And she's pretty tolerant. But she has a taste for the hard stuff...Twix, Kit Kat's, M&M's. She only eats when she wants to and mostly is a happy kid. Her older sister could take a few cues from her. But that's another story for another time. Tonight I'm thinking about Birthdays. Sarah had her birthday party tonight, it was only family. And I watched and helped as she tore through her presents. She loved opening the gifts. She loved blowing out her candles. She never once complained or acted like it wasn't enough or like it was too much. And I'd spent the day running around, picking up gifts and spongebob plates and napkins, and generally hoping that she'd have a great birthday. And I tried to remember any of my birthdays as a kid. I don't remember one of them. Not one. This isn't a sad story but I do have some thoughts.
I remember going to birthday parties as a kid. I remember going to my friend Bobby Zellner's birthday party, we must have been around ten. My Dad dropped me off at Bobby's house, I had a great big present in my arms. He honked the horn and drove home. Bobby lived in the same neighborhood as me, so Dad was just driving a couple streets home. And I remember not wearing a coat because we were going roller skating and I didn'tn think I needed the extra baggage of a coat. So I rang the doorbell, and rang it again. And after ringing it about five or six times, I realized that the party wasn't meeting here, we were supposed to go directly to the skating rink. But Dad had already left. And the walk home was in the cold, in the flurries, with me carrying this big present, and with no coat. I remember crying the whole way, cold and getting colder, with my little hands wrapped around this big ol present. I got home and my folks were truly surprised and I stood over one of the registers letting my hands get warmed up after my painful little walk. And eventually my Dad took me over to the skate rink and came in with me to be sure that that's where everyone was. At home I was more than a little pissed and humiliated, but when I got to the rink, and saw all my friends, I was relieved and happy. I'm sure that I worked up a sweat and had a great time. But what a bummer it was to start the party the way I had.
So i guess that the main thing is that everything worked out for me and that party for Bobby. I'm sure that I had a blast and that my parents felt kind of stupid for misreading the invitation. But all's well that ends well.
And so today, when I reflect back on Sarah's fourth birthday party, I know it was a good one. And she'll most likely not remember it. She got some good gifts but nothing bad happened. I expect that she'll have her Nintendo DS for years to come. Why is it that the only things I remember are because something bad happened? Am I the only one that remembers things this way? I mean, I know that I had a party or get-together with family every year. I know that I always got good gifts. I know that I always had good birthdays. But I can't remember a single one of them. I know that this year the day came and went and nobody, not my kids, my estranged wife, or anyone at work even acknowledged it. I didn't get one present and I didn't even get a cake. I hope that I don't remember that next year. This birthday sucked, actually.
But I was glad that Sarah had a smile on her face tonight. I'm glad that she got to hang out with her cousins and grandparents. I'm glad that she had chocolate smeared on her face when i went to kiss her goodnight. I'm glad that we got to play with her new toys tonight. I'm glad that she got to go to sleep smiling, feeling satisfied with her birthday and all the loot that came with it. Most of all, I'm just glad that she's here, happy, warm, safe and healthy. Maybe that's what I got for my birthday, two months ago. Maybe that's all I wanted for me, for her. Next stop...Christmas.
I remember going to birthday parties as a kid. I remember going to my friend Bobby Zellner's birthday party, we must have been around ten. My Dad dropped me off at Bobby's house, I had a great big present in my arms. He honked the horn and drove home. Bobby lived in the same neighborhood as me, so Dad was just driving a couple streets home. And I remember not wearing a coat because we were going roller skating and I didn'tn think I needed the extra baggage of a coat. So I rang the doorbell, and rang it again. And after ringing it about five or six times, I realized that the party wasn't meeting here, we were supposed to go directly to the skating rink. But Dad had already left. And the walk home was in the cold, in the flurries, with me carrying this big present, and with no coat. I remember crying the whole way, cold and getting colder, with my little hands wrapped around this big ol present. I got home and my folks were truly surprised and I stood over one of the registers letting my hands get warmed up after my painful little walk. And eventually my Dad took me over to the skate rink and came in with me to be sure that that's where everyone was. At home I was more than a little pissed and humiliated, but when I got to the rink, and saw all my friends, I was relieved and happy. I'm sure that I worked up a sweat and had a great time. But what a bummer it was to start the party the way I had.
So i guess that the main thing is that everything worked out for me and that party for Bobby. I'm sure that I had a blast and that my parents felt kind of stupid for misreading the invitation. But all's well that ends well.
And so today, when I reflect back on Sarah's fourth birthday party, I know it was a good one. And she'll most likely not remember it. She got some good gifts but nothing bad happened. I expect that she'll have her Nintendo DS for years to come. Why is it that the only things I remember are because something bad happened? Am I the only one that remembers things this way? I mean, I know that I had a party or get-together with family every year. I know that I always got good gifts. I know that I always had good birthdays. But I can't remember a single one of them. I know that this year the day came and went and nobody, not my kids, my estranged wife, or anyone at work even acknowledged it. I didn't get one present and I didn't even get a cake. I hope that I don't remember that next year. This birthday sucked, actually.
But I was glad that Sarah had a smile on her face tonight. I'm glad that she got to hang out with her cousins and grandparents. I'm glad that she had chocolate smeared on her face when i went to kiss her goodnight. I'm glad that we got to play with her new toys tonight. I'm glad that she got to go to sleep smiling, feeling satisfied with her birthday and all the loot that came with it. Most of all, I'm just glad that she's here, happy, warm, safe and healthy. Maybe that's what I got for my birthday, two months ago. Maybe that's all I wanted for me, for her. Next stop...Christmas.
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