Birthday pity party for me and the boy

Zed (who is now 10 days into being eight years old) has been sick for a couple of days and he woke me up at 4:22 a.m. Eventually he fell back asleep, but I haven't been quite so lucky.

Two nights ago he did the same thing and my lovely wife stayed up with him, tried to get him to drift back to sleep, and generally had her night's sleep ruined. Last night was my turn at the wheel of slumber-less mayhem.

After he drifted off and I miserably failed to do the same, I got up and puttered and cleaned and tidied and computer-ed and did my very, very best not to disturb anyone.

It's now been four hours since that rude awakening and Zed is once again out of bed while his mum and brother sleep in a little bit.

He's beside me now, playing on his DS as I take a bit of a break from my attempts to conquer the tiny chaos of messes that are constantly threatening to encroach and overwhelm my life.

And as he is battling whatever he battles as he plays Pokemon, my mind wanders and I look at him and I see myself and I think of how much I dislike my birth date and how I hope it works better for Zed.

January the sixth is a wretched date for a birthday. And for all my life, it's been mine.

In years past I've quite melodramatically referred to it as "The Unholy Trinity", composed of three parts, being Christmas, New Year's and then my birthday. I'm an epiphany baby, born on the 12th day of Christmas and unlike in the song, what I often get is not a partridge in a pear tree but instead I get a little down, a little depressed, a little morose.

My brother's birthday is 14 days *before* Christmas and years ago he and I made a vow that we would never give each other combined Christmas-birthday presents. The combined Christmas-birthday present is the most cruel of perennial pranks played on people born at this time of year -- our theory is that if we had been born in May we would have scored that present at Christmas time and then got something new and exciting for our birthday. No one has ever received a bigger and better present for be born close to Christmas. The birth date is the ultimate annual booby prize.

But while it must suck for my brother in similar ways, at least his birthday isn't an after-thought or a supposed day of personal celebration after everyone is all celebrated out. So, in typical Philip Roth sibling rivalry, I feel that my brother has it bad, but I've got it worse.

12 days after Christmas and six days into the New Year, my birthday is an annoyance like a tax return that has to be rushed to be filed or a tooth that you finally go see the doctor about. It is the sad footnote to the question "How was your Christmas and New Year's?" with my response being "Oh they were great. And it's my birthday on Thursday." The look on a person's face upon hearing the news is a mixture of pity and contempt, as if to say, "Jeez buddy, I just got over two important dates, and you expect me to care that it's your birthday? -- I'm all happy-ed and merry-ed out. Too bad for you."

And poor, poor Zed is facing a similar situation.

My son was unfortunately born on December 30th.

Oh it could be much, much worse. He could have been born on New Year's Eve, New Year's Day or Christmas itself.

Many, many years ago I knew a guy who was born on December 25. He grew to dislike Christmas and hate his birthday: everyone else got a celebration and a party for their birthday; he had family get-togethers that had everything to do with the season and nothing to with him. That joyous feeling that a birthday can bring because, for 24 hours, you are unique and special, was never his to enjoy. You could see the bitterness grow in him as the years went on.

Like all good fathers I'm hoping that the Zed's future is better than mine. This year he had birthday with his immediate family and in mid-January he's having a party with his friends. Maybe that will work for him, having two kicks at the birthday can -- one by birth, one by choice. That could be nice.

A little while ago Zed's brother awakened and he is sitting beside him right now. Both of them are playing on their DS, and I'm looking at them and silently smiling to myself.

Gee's birthday is March 3. He will be eleven. He will never received anything remotely like a combined birthday/Christmas present or have his birthday semi-forgotten in the rush of the season. He has no idea how fortunate he is.

But Zed at least has this going for him: years ago my wife and I decided that we didn't want him to be the youngest at home and the youngest at school. For the want of two days, it didn't make sense for him to face a scholarly lifetime of being the youngest and the smallest. So we registered him a year later than needed and he's now the oldest in his class. He loves school, he's empathetic and he's oh so very bright. (A couple of years later, Malcolm Gladwell published his book and suggested we were correct in our reasoning.)

My wife and I were smart enough to give him that opportunity. And hopefully that's a present that will work for him all of his life.

The rest he'll have to work through on his own.

Countdown begins

It's November the first. The day after Hallowe'en. But according to a couple of retail home pages, it may as well be Christmas.

On the Amazon home page there are doves, Christmas bells, holly and french horns being employed to convey the festive season and all of its shopping pleasures and pressures. If I go to the American site, I can even click on the holiday toy list.

And over on ebay they're kind enough to tell me it's "54 DAYS". They don't even say it's 54 days to Christmas; just "54 DAYS" with a huge bright red ribbon beside the words.

Come to think of it, it may as well be the Christmas shopping season but neither site actually usually the word "Christmas". Amazon conveys it through images and ebay does it with a countdown, but neither uses the word itself.

So, if I understand this correctly, they'll use the holiday to hawk items and even pressure shoppers with the Dec 25 deadline, but they won't use the word in case they offend people of other faiths. It is the season that retailers love, but for these two mega-sites it's a seasonal love that dare not speak its name.

In other words: "Ho-ho-ho, Merry Shopping!"

Six months today

The weirdest dang thing...

This morning I got the most infectious of holiday tunes stuck in my head: it has a slow intro of a couple of lines that mention famous characters, but it all acts as a prelude as the actual song kicks into speed and the title character makes his appearance...

"You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.
But do you know
The most famous reindeer of all..."

Stuck. In. My. Head.



And it wasn't even the big bang part of the song that made its way into my head (the screaming "RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER!" part that children love). Instead, what got stuck in my noggin was the quiet, slow introduction of the other characters who barely make a re-appearance in the song. Once they are all listed one-by-one in the song's opening lines, the are relegated to minor parts and become barely worth mentioning as they become "all of the other reindeer".

Nevertheless...

Stuck. In. My. Head.

And later, after the song's lyrics had wormed their way into my head, I saw the date, and it hit me: Today is June 25 and it's six months to Christmas.

Perhaps it was mentioned on the radio as I was half-awake this morning and the date staggered its way into my not very alert subconscious. But even if that is the case and someone on the radio mentioned the festivities that are exactly half a year away, it's bizarre that my brain then made the leap to those lyrics.

On top of that, I'd say that it is "Jingle Bells" that's my favorite holiday song. "Rudolph" is more of a kids' tune where a youngster is recognized as having great potential and hidden talents; "Jingle Bells" has a hint of romance and adventure mixed with its holiday joy.

Nevertheless, for this morning, it was Rudolph who ruled. Six months early exactly to the day.

Weirdest dang thing.