The beginning of the year for us translates into birthday season; birthday season falls just after the New Year with its short days and long nights of winter and just before Easter with its longer days and shorter nights of springtime. All three women in our household celebrate birthdays in this season with my husband’s celebration falling well later in the year when fall begins to take root in the changing colors of the leaves. And so today is my 16 year old’s Birthday Eve Day, and for her that feels a little bittersweet.
When she was younger, her birthdays easily were days of joyous celebrations that she embraced and even anticipated. Ever since they were born, I have taught my girls the joy of birthday celebrations, helping them look forward to the actual day with excitement and expectancy. After all, our birthday is the one day of the year that truly is all about us, right? Pretty early on I started taking a Birthday Eve selfie with my girls each year, documenting their last day as that age. Then, while they dream through the night, I have created a festive Birthday Day space complete with balloons covering the floor, happy birthday banners and accompanying decorations, and at least one or two mylar helium-filled balloons, all to set the tone of celebrating the girl more than the number.
The teen years have brought a bit more reticence, even uncertainty, into the birthday celebration, which is understandable because who among us wants to leave childhood behind, you know? However, I have tried to let each of my teenagers know that the number indicates nothing more than the trips they’ve made around the sun. In other words, the number holds little power except for what we choose to assign it. We can all attest to the fact that we feel little difference the day before our birthday versus the day of our birthday. Yes, the number changes, but little else actually does.
Even so, my 16 year old has carried the weight of anxiety tied to getting older and approaching adulthood marked by a number. But I remind her repeatedly that she will find her life will not magically change when the number does. I’m not sure she fully believes me, but I will further remind her simply to behold me and her dad—we still behave as we did when we were their age with our silliness and our senses of humor. In other words, we continue to enjoy our lives and celebrate our Birthday Days with gusto because it’s fun and because we deserve it. We all deserve to be celebrated, and not only on our birthdays. It’s just that birthdays provide an obvious option.
Not too long ago, my girl asked me when “most people” stop calling their mother, mama. I shrugged my shoulders and said, I don’t know that they do. I still call my mother, mom, which is what I’ve always called her. She pressed me a bit, maybe because neither of my girls ever shifted from mama to mom. Honestly, I couldn’t be more thrilled with that option, so much so that I never suggested maybe they use mom instead of mama. Maybe because I waited so long to become mama, maybe because that title is full of meaning for me. It means the relationship we have and the life we share and the connection I have nurtured from those first moments the positive line appeared on that pregnancy test.
Isn’t it wild the way we view life? The way we assign importance to a number, or to a word (whether or not it’s okay for a 16 year old to call their mama, mama), or what we think is going to change without our input? Ever since our girls were knee-high to a grasshopper, I have imbued them with a sense of empowerment and confidence, and I have watched them grow into those things as they have grown into themselves. As I prepare to celebrate my 16 year old’s birthday tomorrow, my heart overflows with such emotion.
This young woman makes me proud, she makes me laugh, she inspires me, and she encourages me. She doesn’t realize it, but she teaches me things about myself regularly. She is artistic and compassionate and empathetic. She is creative and funny and honest, so often wearing her heart and its emotions on her sleeve. How can I not celebrate the incredible person she is becoming? How can I not delight in the wonder she experiences about the night sky and black holes? How can I not be drawn into the details she shares about the music she loves or the rock stars that bewitch her? How can I not celebrate the art she creates in stories and the dragons she brings to life on the page or in Procreate. I’ve done many things in my life, but getting to have a front row seat to this girl’s life easily is one of my favorite things because she rocks as much as the music she listens to. I cannot wait to celebrate her and who she is. She’s pretty amazing and I love her with an abiding no-matter-what kind of love. Always.