Sunday, December 9, 2012

Birthdays



Today is my seventeenth birthday. Does it feel any different to me than any other day? No, not really. My mom has always felt the same way. While Dad and my brother Miles seemed to accept that about her, my sister Claire and I kept trying to get Mom excited about her birthday and buy at least a few gifts. She would always reply, “Trust me. I don’t want anything.” We did. The next year, she'd say, “Don’t you dare even THINK of buying me gifts.” I would ask her if she was excited and she would reply, “No. I don't let the calendar dictate to me what I should do." She never wants to go out on Mother's Day or Valentine's Day, the busiest days of the year at restaurants. Nothing wrong with going a different day, she says, and that's only if she caves into the pressure of celebrating some occasion because the calendar says so. Worse, she hates anything that Hallmark is promoting. No one is to buy her cards or trinkets if it is expected due to some date on a calendar. For years I kept trying to show her that cards and gifts are fun, and I would get annoyed by her attitude, but on my seventeenth birthday, I realized I feel the same way.


Who decided to make birthdays become such a big deal? I realize I would not be alive today if not for the miracle of entering this world on December 6, but I don’t understand why we have come to expect so many gifts or spend so much money on expensive birthday parties. Birthdays are a time to celebrate being alive and spend time with our families, not be little divas complaining about not getting enough presents or not having everything go exactly our way. So many people spend SO much money on cutesy little hallmark cards, expensive gift wrapping, and elaborate cakes from the store, which taste horrible, by the way- they make look pretty, but homemade cakes are SUPERIOR. Grade school kids came to expect hiring a clown, then renting a building or time at a skating rink or the Play Station. Parents spend time and money buying party favors as gifts for the guests, silly hats, noise makers, and themed cups, plates and napkins--the list goes on and on. Adults are no better. Women get mad at husbands for not buying roses and taking them out for expensive dinners. 

Why can’t we just enjoy the fact that we are alive and have friends and family to celebrate with? Why does everything have to be so commercialized? Why do we have to spend as much money as possible and get every expensive item we want in order to be happy? If you ever discover the answer, please let me know. Otherwise, wish me a happy birthday and be done with it.

(Word Count: 482)

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