Birthdays. If you're a kid, they seem to take forever to roll round and you count down how many days there are to go. When you're an adult, they just seem to spring up on you like a Jack-in-the-Box without warning unless, of course, it's a significant one.
Today is my birthday. It's not one ending in a zero so it's not deemed "significant", just another year ticking by. This year, I'm all the fours, 44. Sounds like I could be doing a bingo call. It's just sort of snuck up on me in the insanely busy existence I have at the moment.
I looked at the calendar a few days ago and did an "Ahh!!" just as if I'd had that Jack-in-the-Box erupt in front of my face. I'm aghast it's December already because a couple of blinks ago it was August, when we celebrated our eldest's birthday. I'm always reminded my birthday is just days away by virtue of having a son with a birthday three days before mine.
Twelve years ago I was willing my unborn baby to choose a date other than his mother's birthday for his arrival. Not that I was fussed about sharing the day or even the fact I'd spend that particular birthday huffing and puffing, but I thought he should have a birthday all to himself.
When you're a kid your birthday is THE big event in lights, and sharing the day with your mother might be a bit of an unnecessary complication, I thought. He must have agreed and arrived a day or two earlier than planned.
But, back to us mid-lifers. A couple of years ago, a small handful of friends agreed the nicest thing might just be to arrange to meet for lunch on whomever's birthday it was. With each of us juggling our own family and work commitments, we don't get to see each other as often as we'd like, so a birthday seemed the obvious reason to call a girls' lunch date. Our gift was that we got to stop and just catch up with each other.
The first of these birthdays is in August, then there's November, I'm in December and the other is in January.
This year, we managed lunch in August. November fell sideways, mine will, too, and January. Well, that particular birthday girl isn't even here, so 2010 has been a birthday lunch disaster.
We are definitely not the lady-lunch-a-lot crowd, that's for sure. We can't even manage to organise one on a significant day, let alone a run of the mill one.
Still, we're good mates and we don't fuss about such things. This year, instead, we've taken the practical option of getting together with our families a few days before Christmas and celebrating birthdays, Christmas, and end of year all in one fell swoop.
Factoring in a (doomed) birthday celebration aside, it's a mad time of year when everything seems to grow to a crescendo of must do this, finish that, tie up that loose end, and so the list goes and grows.
I'm neck deep in a production that is engulfing my every breathing moment. Ben Hur seems insignificant by comparison.
That, combined with the usual end of year madness of kids' exams, ballet recitals, sports practices and games, prizegivings, school wind ups, etc, etc, makes me a less than civil December birthday girl anyway.
I confess I am getting tired, short-tempered and have moments of complete brain fade when I resort to my "to do" lists for work and home and wonder how I can possibly tick much off them. It's an overwhelming feeling, eased only by the small consolation that I've managed to corral my thoughts long enough to ensure it's all on a list and in some order of priority.
I've taken to putting the phone and "ding dong" of arriving email on mute so as to finish a task rather than being sidetracked by slavishly servicing the demands of instant communication.
Maybe I'll manage to be free to do lunch on my 45th next year.
But, for this year, it's a quick happy birthday to me over the cornflakes and on with the day.
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.
Latest from Lifestyle
Hidden Auckland delights: Hot springs, Staydium Glamping, and weekend markets
Even in our biggest city, there are still ways to get away from it all.