When I was little I occasionally wished my birthday was in the summer and not the winter. A chance for pool parties and beach parties and pool parties….
But now I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea if my children had winter or spring or fall birthdays. Summer birthdays…last a month.
Here’s the adventure:
Because of our job, we travel a fair amount in the summer. This means that anything requiring celebration in the summer – birthdays, anniversaries, etc. – are rarely celebrated on the date of origin. Munchkin turned 4 a couple of weeks ago and of the four birthdays she’s experienced (not counting the day she WAS born) we’ve been home for only one.
So this year she has had…wait for it…three parties. One in Florida (thanks Dad for sharing!), one at the grandparents in Virginia, and one at our house for “little friends” at our house. All told it lasted from the middle of July to the first of August! I am partied out.
But Munchkin is not. She thinks there will be more surprises and cake and ice cream and parties and friends and the list goes on and on.
Birthdays are special, and as she gets older I know she’ll figure out that the day and the person are the most special parts of it – but right now…the parties are pretty awesome.