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I Got You, Babe - Waiting for a birthday an eternity when you're little

The thing about birthdays is that they only come once a year.

For me, well, I’m starting to like the fact I only turn one year older every 12 months.

For my monkey, at four years old, this is an excruciating eternity to wait for the big No. 5.

She turns this significant number in February. A good four more months away. Too early really for me to start planning any sort of birthday party or think about presents, or even too early for the sentimental sap in me to get misty-eyed over my baby turning five years old. Well, almost.

However, try explaining to her that "your birthday is not for four more months." For one thing, she just mastered how many days are in a week and is learning how many days are in a month. To explain beyond one month is pretty hard to someone who hasn’t mastered math yet.

Why she is probably excited about her birthday already — besides the fact that she’s seen multiple new toys that she wants — is that the better half and I both recently celebrated our birthdays, which are on back to back days in November.

The double birthday was nearly too much for the monkey — she was crafting cards and singing happy birthday all day for two days straight.

Then, of course, she thought her birthday must be coming up soon since I previously told her that her birthday wasn’t until after mine and Daddy’s and after Christmas and Papa’s birthday.

Turns out she was only half listening, because she missed the "after Christmas..." part, and the next day turned out a set of birthday invitations for her preschool friends made out of various pieces of construction paper, ribbon and glue.

If "awkward" pops into your head, well, you are right. I was thrilled with her wonderful little birthday invitations, but then again had to tell her that her birthday wasn’t for another four months.

And at the moment, that is a long time and she should probably tuck those away until it’s time for her birthday so all her friends don’t show up at my house on the following Saturday expecting a party.

She looked at me with a blank look, then rolled her eyes in the back of her head and stomped her feet.

"But that’s soooo long, Mommy!"

She argued with me so much about bringing those invitations and what she wanted to plan for her birthday and get for her birthday that I finally threatened to ground her for a day if I heard her say another word about her birthday before Christmas.

Much to my surprise it worked.

Now she is just busy hounding me about Christmas.

Kyla Henderson is a local freelance journalist, business owner and mommy. Her column runs every week in the Community News.

» kyla@lilbitbaby.ca

Republished from the Brandon Sun print edition November 29, 2012

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The thing about birthdays is that they only come once a year.

For me, well, I’m starting to like the fact I only turn one year older every 12 months.

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The thing about birthdays is that they only come once a year.

For me, well, I’m starting to like the fact I only turn one year older every 12 months.

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