The last time I celebrated my birthday with one of my kids, my daughter was just 4 years old. That was six years ago, and boy, did I think we’d have a fabulous day together. I envisioned pancakes for breakfast, a fun-filled trip to her dance class, followed by a lunch date at her favorite cafe (because who doesn’t want to keep a 4-year-old happy?). I could almost see us skipping down the street, hand in hand, with balloons floating behind us. Seriously, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, as it turns out, a lot can go wrong with a preschooler.
When she woke up, she was thrilled—beyond thrilled, really. Maybe a bit too thrilled? The anticipation of cake, presents, and singing was like a pressure cooker for her little mind. My usually calm child transformed into a ball of chaos, crying and screaming from breakfast until nap time—seven long hours later. She wailed through pancakes, threw a tantrum on the way to her dance class, and then sobbed uncontrollably when I presented her with her beloved sandwich at lunch. It was as though she couldn’t handle the weight of her mom turning a year older, bless her little heart.
I remember driving home, feeling utterly defeated, and asking, “Why are you acting like this today?” With red, tear-streaked cheeks, she just whimpered, “I don’t know.” And then we both cried because, let’s face it, we’re emotional creatures, and it was the saddest birthday ever.
That day marked the beginning of a new tradition for me: I vowed to spend my birthdays solo. Each year, I send my kids off to do something—anything—with someone else. That way, we can reunite later for some angel food cake and still enjoy each other’s company without the chaos.
Every other day of the year revolves around them: their activities, their snacks, their nap times, their friends, and even their potty schedules. Call me selfish, but on my birthday, I want to focus on me. I want to go for a jog, savor crispy bacon, indulge in a massage, enjoy a grown-up lunch with friends, and relish the blissful silence of a car ride. I need that time to reflect on my life and how I want to seize the next 365 days. Just one day a year can be all about me. Honestly, I might take more than just one. Maybe tomorrow…
We all deserve that special day. So go ahead, claim yours—I’m certainly claiming mine.
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In summary, while I adore my family, I’ve learned that my birthdays are sacred. It’s a chance for me to recharge and reflect, away from the demands of daily life. And you know what? We all deserve that.