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Date of Birth: November 24, 1979 Member Since: August 30, 2006 Last Signed In: January 02, 2009 Profile Views: 8496 Blog Views: 15144 RIP Bettie Page xx Free Coffee At Starbucks Today! Happy Halloween! I've never realized ... England - Day 7 Cider Fest 2008 Photos from my trip Day 4 in England! Help! I need movers! Charity Work September 06 October 06 November 06 December 06 January 07 February 07 March 07 April 07 May 07 June 07 July 07 August 07 September 07 October 07 November 07 December 07 January 08 February 08 March 08 April 08 May 08 June 08 July 08 August 08 September 08 October 08 November 08 December 08 January 09 
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My Favorite Week of the Year
Mmm, Thanksgiving. This has to be my favorite holiday beside Halloween. I mean, think about it … you’re surrounded by family, food, pies, and presents. Who doesn’t love to eat, spent time with their family, and be showered with gifts? Oh wait … not everyone was born the week of Thanksgiving …
Every year, no fail, my family believes that my birthday is on Thanksgiving. I’m some mystical error with a rotating birth date. My birthday will completely come and go and they’ll look shocked when I announce “Thanks, it was yesterday” when they happily exclaim “Happy Birthday” thinking they are the very first one to bestow these words on me. It has come to the point where even I forget my own birthday. Shoot, half the time I can’t even tell you how old I am without thinking about it first.
Still, this long running joke has never bothered me. As a kid it actually made the festivities last just that much longer. A week or two before my birthday mom would load up a car load of giggling little girls, take us to the ice skating rink, let us loose to Boy George tunes, then load us back in and give us some motherly advice, “I’m going to tell you girls one thing, and you better listen, okay? Do not let a boy stick his tongue in your mouth”. At 9 years old we had no idea what she was talking about but it sounded pretty gross.
If my birthday fell before or after Thanksgiving, we’d have another party at home to celebrate as a family. Mom would order my favorite, chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, invite over my best friends, pass around gifts, sing a very loud rendition of the Birthday Song, and blow out the candles. The night before Thanksgiving we'd load up in one of our cars and mom would fly us from my hometown of Santa Rosa to Bakersfield in 3 hours, then we’d celebrate Thanksgiving and my birthday with my grandparents.
The conjoining was subtle, it began after we moved here, with everyone still calling on my birthday … Dad would call me every year bright and early and tell me the story about the day I was born (eating a big turkey dinner, flying down a bumpy road, and then taking off in a private plane will put you into labor). My mom would catch me in passing and say it loudly enough so my siblings would hear and be reminded, then they’d join in the chorus and the rest of the family would call throughout the day. Mom would make my favorite meal, and then she and my siblings would give me gifts. On Thanksgiving the rest of the family would bring their presents.
My 15th birthday was actually on Thanksgiving – and that’s when I became the mystical error with the rotating birthday. I have to hand it to my sister and my Nana – they have never once forgotten. I get a phone call from them no fail, on my birthday, every year … but Mom’s birthday greeting in passing eventually slowed to an afterthought in the evening, my other relatives just figured it was actually on Thanksgiving, and Dad, well he just became confused …
In 2005 he called me early in the morning and I’m sure he had a twinkle in his eye and a big grin on his face feeling proud that he remembered and thinking how he was the first one to yell “Happy Birth-day” into the phone. I sleepily replied, “Thanks Dad, but my birthday is tomorrow” … “But I thought it was the day before Thanksgiving” … “Sometimes it is Dad, but not this year” … “Oh, okay. Forget that I called, I love you, go back to sleep”. Then later that evening my phone rings again, “Happy Birth-day!” … “Um Dad, we went through this this morning, my birthday is tomorrow.” In the background I can hear his girlfriend chastising him, “I told you it wasn’t today!”
The next day was Thanksgiving, and actually was my birthday. Mom was busy whipping up one of her gourmet meals, ripping the organs out of the bird, and chasing us kids around the house making the heart beat. The Macy*s Parade was on tv, and as usual we were salivating until it was time to chow down our Thanksgiving lunch (we eat early, so we can continue to eat all day, and so family and friends with other family can pop in and out). We had a great meal, I had a great birthday, and then I passed out in a turkey induced coma surrounded by a blanket of family love.
The next morning my phone rang, “Happy Birth-day!” … “Thanks Dad …” I began to say my birthday was the day before, but with that tone in his voice that made certain he had a twinkle in his eye and a big smile on his face he began to tell me the story of the day I was born, I didn’t stop him … he didn’t need to know. I’ll just have a birth-week instead.
2 comments from 2 users
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posted by
tashkajones
on Nov 6, 2007 at 01:21 PM
haha... birthday weeks are the best.... i always make an attempt for those...
posted by
an1ok1joe
on Nov 6, 2007 at 05:55 PM
Hey my Birthday is on Dec. 14th so I always got b-day girfts and then 11 days later more presents! Whoo hoo,. So i can certainly relate.
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