Why I Have Grown To Hate My December Birthday

Another year has rolled around and my birthday is fast approaching, not that anyone would have the time to recognize that fact. They are all too busy shopping for Christmas or Chanukah gifts, too busy baking holiday cookies, too many office parties to go to, too many guests coming over for Ugly Sweater Parties. Too many decorations to put up and a tree to trim and on and on. There just aren’t enough hours in the day during December to take a moment to recognize the December Birthday Boy or Girl.

I didn’t always feel this way. As a kid my parents always made an effort to keep my birthday something apart from Christmas. A special cake would be made. I’d get to pick what I wanted for dinner or where I’d like to go out to eat. My presents came wrapped in real-live birthday paper. Birthday cards even came in the mail addressed just to me.

The first time I had to make my own birthday cake is when it all really started to go downhill. Not sure what year that was (only that I was still living at home with my parents) or how I somehow found myself completely alone with the realization that if I wanted my chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting and mint chocolate chip ice cream that I was going to have to go about getting those things myself. I only remember that I was alone and I made my own cake and I cried. It wasn’t until the next day that someone suggested maybe we should get together and celebrate it after the fact. I accepted it all graciously because I reckoned it was better late than never.

I hate to complain, I really and truly do, but having a December birthday really does suck. Every year you get to hear at least one person say, “Oh, you mean I have to get you a birthday present, too?!” No, you don’t have to get me a birthday present, but just keep that in mind when your birthday rolls around during any one of the other eleven months of the year.

Some people don’t make a big deal out of their birthdays and that’s fine, but others look forward to them and forward to the celebration with family and friends and having just ONE day out of the year they can call their own. I knew a couple of people in school and within my family that share my birthday with me and that was actually cool, we could commiserate together over the lack of overall recognition.

Since that first birthday spent alone and/or unrecognized came about, it’s happened more and more. My birthday to others has become an afterthought, and let’s face it, a downright inconvenience. At least that’s how it has felt to me. Think about this. What if every year you never heard a peep from anyone on your birthday? No one called. No one sent you a card, let alone gave you a gift. No one invited you out for any sort of anything. Your special day is completely forgotten and ignored by everyone. Or if they did give you a gift, they said, “Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas” even if your birthday is say, in August.

I am fully aware at how selfish this all sounds. That’s why it’s taken me so long to get to this point where I can actually speak up about it. It’s still not comfortable, but being quiet and modest and claiming it doesn’t really bother me is a lie. It does bother me. It bothers me A LOT! I’m not asking for extravagant gifts or a full-blown party with all the works. No, I’m asking, like millions of other December Birthday People out there, for simple recognition that we were indeed born and that we do indeed have a birthday just like everyone else. Every now and then it’s nice to be recognized that we’ve managed to live another year and that maybe that fact is considered a good thing by those that know and love us. You do love us, right, despite the inconvenient time of year we were born?

I used to look forward to my birthday. I don’t anymore and not for the usual reasons other dis-likers of birthday’s people give. I like the idea of getting older. It sure beats the alternative! Now, I just assume it will be another ordinary day in the lives of those around me. There will be no fan-fare. They will be too busy working, taking down decorations, planning New Year’s Eve parties, or returning gifts they got for Christmas. All their time (not to mention money) has been spent. Besides, they just got me a Christmas present!! I should just shut up and be happy with that.

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5 Ways To Survive Seasonal Widowhood

I’m the last person I’d expect to be writing about this particular topic, but there I was, typing away, checking my facts, looking up certain terminology of which I am otherwise ignorant.  Not ten feet away the television droned. The images, voices and sounds mostly ignored. When I’m into what I’m writing the rest of the world melts away.

And now it’s time to share it here; my December article for The Good Men Project.

http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/5-ways-to-survive-seasonal-widowhood-dg/

Cover Me In Glue & Roll Me In Glitter

My ex-hubs has a Facebook page called “Tucked In The Corners And Under The Stairs”. It’s a place to post pictures and memories of all those old things we have kicking around that maybe once belonged to our parents or grandparents and that we still treasure to this day, or something found at a junk or antique shop, or won at an auction. You get the idea. It’s a fun and happy place to go when you’re feeling nostalgic.

Recently a dear friend of mine, Sherry, that I’ve known since the 4th grade, we won’t go into how many years ago that was, posted some pictures of little houses that her mother had. I don’t remember seeing these houses at my friend’s place all those many years ago, but maybe they were packed away before I came around. Who knows? Sherry said they were called Putz Houses and I was instantly enthralled because well, miniatures. I do have a slight obsession with such things.

Almost immediately I Googled ‘Putz Houses’ and the obsession dug its sharp, tiny claws in ever deeper. They are also known as Glitter Houses because they were traditionally covered with glitter to replicate the sparkle of snow and ice and used as decorations for train set villages and mantels during Christmas time.

As I scrolled through the websites I quickly found myself in the Danger Zone. Oh, look, a link for ‘Blue Prints’. This wasn’t going to be pretty. I clicked and the Nails of Obsession (oh, that sounds like a good name for a death metal band!) dug into my arm enough to draw just a bit of blood. I selected a very simple plan, the innocent sounding “Picture Window Cottage”. I printed the plans which took all of two sheets of paper. Oh, look, there’s a variation “Bay Window Cottage” page. I may as well print that while I’m here, too.

I took my pages and a pair of scissors to coffee break. How hard could this be? Within ten minutes I had all five pieces cut out and ready for folding and gluing. Break was over with though and I needed to get back to work. And for the next three hours those innocent pieces of paper taunted me. “C’mon, Pam, it will only take a few minutes. Stop working. Put us together. The glue is sitting right there.”

I’m not sure how I managed, but I fought off those little demons and got some real work done instead. Lunch time could not come fast enough. As soon as it arrived, I grabbed my salad, a bottle of white glue, my ready-to-fold “Picture Window Cottage” and a 3X5 mounting card base.

Between bites of less than fresh and flavor-filled mass prepared Chef’s Salad, I set to work. Fold, glue, hold. Fold, glue, hold. In another fifteen minutes, I had my house. Granted, it’s simple and flimsy, but there it was and I couldn’t stop looking at it.

Last night I lay in bed thinking about that little house. How could I improve on it? What could I use for siding? Roofing? Windows? A fence? Oh! Wouldn’t some pulled cotton look cute coming out of the chimney to resemble smoke? I have an extra bead from the miniature perfume bottles a made a few weeks back. That would make a great doorknob! How big should I make my final project? I’m going to skip the glitter. Frankly, I’m not the glitter type. I’ll be going for realism.

Today, I printed out plans for “The Little Charmer”, because it was there. I’ve obtained the right sort of board as well, not just flimsy printer paper. Thank, God, I only have seven more working days until winter break. I know, I know. I should be working on the novel, but MINIATURE HOUSES!!! people!