On Birthdays

Last week, Monkey celebrated his 7th birthday. It was a big deal. Days and days of anticipation, the purchasing of gifts, the making of a cake, culminating in birthday crowns, candles, and a good old-fashioned party.

I remember so many years of that youthful anticipation and excitement. Birthdays used to be a month long endeavor, filled with so many "I just can't wait!!"s that it felt like I would die before the day would ever come. And now I wonder, when did that end?

This year, my birthday fell amidst returning home, a wedding, and a lot of random busy things. There was a special Skype call with friends across the ocean. There were family and friends and ice cream. There were cards and a gift (that definitely fell on the "need" list, as opposed to the "want" list). There was a surprise breakfast with old friends. But it just sort of slipped passed. No big hurrah. I wonder when it was that I became okay with that.

I don't care about the excitement anymore, which I suppose is an inevitable landmark of "adulthood". I'm a little nostalgic for the days when I cared, but I'm also not terribly torn up that they have passed.

Which is precisely why it is so great to be around kids, who feel the excitement, who induce anticipation, and let it spill over until you can't help but be excited with them. So instead of pining for the excitement of birthdays past, or feeling the pressure of fabricating excitement for future birthdays, I am content reveling in the pure joy shared by the young ones.