Today is my half-birthday. No, we don’t really celebrate half-birthdays around here, but I usually mention them to the kids, because when I was young, my half birthday felt very important.
After all, my half-birthday was that special day when I went from being whatever age I actually was to “almost the next age.”
Example: Five-and-a-half was consistently expressed as “almost six.” Which, as you know, is so much older than plain old five. But it wasn’t until I had rounded the corner on that half-birthday that I felt comfortable switching to “almost six.” I had standards, you know.
Nine-and-a-half was particularly special because it meant I was almost into the double digits, which, for some reason, felt like an enormous milestone to 9-year-old me. And 12-and-a-half? Well, I’m sure you can imagine that being “almost a teenager” felt incredibly grown up.
These days, as you might guess, I don’t think too much about my age. There have been times when I’ve actually been surprised to realize that I’m quite a few years past 28. It seems I always feel 28, no matter what year the calendar says.
And as for my half-way mark around the birthday year? I acknowledge it in passing, but I certainly don’t switch to saying I’m “almost” the next age! No, I’m more likely to stick to the safe “thirty-something” or admit I’m “in my mid-thirties.” I don’t mind my age, but I don’t feel compelled to proclaim it or dwell on it either.
I guess I’ll just save the excitement of half-birthdays for the kids, and smile when they tell me how old they “almost” are.
In the days and weeks leading up to Christmas, my mom would decorate the house — everything from the side tables to the stairways was festive. But there was one item of Christamas decor that was missing.
I used to think I had a good memory, but I’m starting to doubt that now. When I think back to my childhood, a few prominent events stand out, but most memories are jumbled and smushed together. Christmases all mix together in a delightful blend of family, fun, decorations, learning the story of Jesus’ birth, and being very excited about opening gifts before breakfast. But a few things are a tad bit more clear in my mind, and I thought I’d explore them a little this week. C. (10) is always interested in stories from “way back when I was young,” so I figure this is a good way to share some of my memories with him, as well.


