ad hoc MOM

I have great visions of my daughter’s fourth birthday.  There will be a bouncy castle and a pony – never mind that we don’t have a yard, I’ll borrow one.  There will be acrobats from cirque de soleil, a petting zoo featuring exotic and nearly extinct animals from all corners of the globe, Tim Gunn will personally oversee the creation of the most adorable birthday outfit ever, spun from thread of pure gold and silver.  And forget about your typical kiddie fare of pizza and chicken fingers.  Julia Child will be brought back from the dead to prepare a proper French feast and miraculously, all children present will clean their plates and ask for seconds in perfect French.  Her birthday cake will make Martha Stewart weep – as never will have she seen such a perfect confection.  Lady Gaga and DJ Lance Rock will rock the house.  The guest list will include luminaries such as Ja Rule, B level actor Dennis Farina, Indian field hockey player Adam Sinclair, Australian comedian Frank Woodley, and what party isn’t complete without American law professor Eugene Volokh?

Why such a ridiculous guest list you might ask?  Why not go strictly A-level?  Beyonce and Jay-Z?  Brangelina?  Suri Cruise?  Why THESE people??  Because like my daughter, they were all born on Leap Day, and I feel she should take pity on other poor souls who don’t have a proper birthday.  While we’re at it, that’s also why I’d make her invite American curler, Pete Fenson, and let’s not forget Richard Rameriez, American serial killer.  Regarding the latter, see what can happen when you don’t have a birthday????

I went into labor on February the 28th, 2008.  At the time, I wasn’t focused on my daughter’s ACTUAL birth date.  I was worried about a) When I would get my drugs? b) Did we set the DVR properly so as not to miss the season premiere of LOST?  And c) Was I really not allowed to eat UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE?  The fact that we were in a leap year did not even cross my mind until my Dr. casually mentioned that my daughter would have “a really cool birthday.”  I was in complete agreement (epidural had been administered, it was confirmed that LOST was being recorded).  And I have to say that 90% of the time I still think it’s super special that she was born on Leap Day – a truly rare day determined by a complicated series of algorithms that is tied into a variety of different cultural practices and beliefs ranging from “hey, St. Patrick says it’s okay to propose to a guy” to “you are totally screwed because you were born on such a crap day.”  The fact alone that there is any debate as to whether or not this was a good day to be born is interesting enough to me to make this a desirable birthday. . but once in awhile I can’t help but think June is getting ripped off.

The birthday wishes started coming in on Sunday this year. . “um, is this June’s birthday?  Or is it tomorrow?”  Of course it didn’t matter that people weren’t sure which day we chose to celebrate – it mattered that they took the time to call, but how will June feel when she’s old enough to understand this?  Will she feel majorly bummed out that she doesn’t have a special day all of her own?  That she won’t see HER birth date in black and white and in print on the calendar?  Obviously we can celebrate both days, have a birthday WEEK, do all manner of crazy fun things to make up for it – but when the 60th day of the year rolls around, and I remember the emotions I was feeling the minute she was born, I have to admit that sometimes it’s confusing that there’s not a date on the calendar to clearly commemorate the memory of what I’m feeling.  It’s just a date – I know it doesn’t matter, really. . . or does it (see previous mention re: serial killer)?  I just have a feeling that there are going to be a few ponies and some pretty big birthday cakes on those few precious Leap Years.  And if Lady Gaga is still around, she’ll be invited too.