I guess you could say I lucked out when it comes to birthdays….
I have to share it with two really important dudes in a kid’s life – Santa and Jesus.
Mum used to tell me that I was ‘soooo lucky’ to be born on Christmas day. She told me that I was ‘super special’ and that no-one would ever forget my birthday when I grew up (which apparently is a ‘thing’?). She also told me that I arrived in such ‘spectacular fashion’ that I should be ‘thrilled’ – apparently I fell out of Santa’s sack when he was heading up the chimney after delivering toys to our house. I did think this was kinda cool, until I was 6 … then I clicked that there weren’t any other kids in our family, so who would Santa have been delivering toys too? I also realised we didn’t have a chimney….
So when I was 7, Dad told me that I actually didn’t come from Santa’s sack, but that I did actually come from Mum’s tummy, and that I kinda spoilt Christmas day the year I arrived…. What a blow! *sheesh*. He didn’t mean it in a bad way I don’t think? It’s just that we were supposed to be having all the extended family over at our house that year, and I wasn’t expected to arrive for another two and a half weeks, so I kind threw everything into a spin. Obviously Mum wasn’t going to be cooking the turkey and the roast potatoes (my favourite!) whilst she was in hospital, so it all had to be shifted to my Aunt’s house… and then someone had to go to our house and get the turkey out of the fridge and get the pressies and the potatoes… and apparently the spare key wasn’t where it was supposed to be …and then they forgot the presents, so had to go back again….and then all anyone really wanted was to come and see me being born….so Christmas Day that year became a bit of a mess apparently.
I can see that now. But it’s still not nice to be reminded (every year) of the time I spoilt Christmas day. Jeez, I was just a baby.
I really don’t like having my birthday on Christmas Day. In fact I feel pretty sorry for myself about the whole thing. Some kids reckon it would be fun and that I’d get twice the presents and that I’d be made to feel super special. It’s never felt like that to me. Everyone is so busy being ‘festive’ and in Christmas mode that my birthday kinda gets forgotten. And I certainly don’t think I get anymore presents either. What annoys me most is that my birthday presents are usually wrapped in Christmas paper! It just seems like noone really cares. I just get told – “Oh that’s for your birthday”. And I never get to have a birthday party on or even near my actual birthday because it’s just too hard – everyone is busy with Christmas events or away – and by the time January rolls around I never much feel like it then; it’s kind of an afterthought. I guess once nice thing is that all my family are around me on my birthday, but I guess they’d be there anyway to celebrate Jesus’ birthday.
So whilst I love Christmas, and I love birthdays, so far together they’ve been pretty rotten. I feel a bit selfish saying that, but it’s the honest truth. The thing is, there’s not a lot I can do to change the fact of when I was born, so I guess I’ll just have to find a way to be happy about it. There’s no point being cross forever. I’m a pretty good sharer, so whilst I still reckon I deserve to have a good birthday of my own like everyone else, maybe I can find a way to be happy about sharing mine with Jesus.
(Problems, p.58, Self-pity, p.71, A for Attitude)