Birthdays

Forty-six years ago today my mom gave birth to her 9th and final baby...me. I was born on a Sunday, which happened to be my sister Linda's confirmation day. Thanks to me, my mom missed that important day in Linda's life. So from my very first day I was the little sister messing things up for my siblings!  Since I had that reputation early on, I got married to Eric on Linda's 40th birthday. It was not deliberate, but was the only Saturday open at the church.

I was born 4 years after my brother, Mike. Mother always told me that my siblings enjoyed watching me grow and learn new things since I was quite a bit younger than them. I wonder how many of them would agree with that today. As the youngest, Mother always referred to me as her baby. That was cute until I was about 10. Then being called her baby lost it's charm. Some where in my late 20's or early 30's I liked the sound of it again. Today I would love to hear her call me "my baby" once again.

When I was a kid, Mother would make us our favorite meal on our birthday. I remember always choosing her hotdish. It was basically hamburger, elbow macoroni, kidney beans, tomato juice and some seasoning. For dessert she would bake me a chiffon cake with chocolate frosting. For many years those cakes were decorated with the hard candy like cake decorations you could buy in the grocery store. Sometime when I was in high school, my mom enrolled in a couple of cake decorating classes. Then our birthday cakes had yummy tasting flower decorations. She loved decorating cakes. She would buy or rent character cake pans too. My nephew Chris always got a Mickey Mouse cake on his birthday. He always claimed the ears tasted the best. Just recently, Donna, a long time neighbor of my parents reminded me of the time my mom found out that two of Donna's kids had birthdays approaching. My mom made them a Bert and Ernie cake. That was decades ago, but Donna said her kids have always remembered it.

It's kind of funny to me that I remember the food Mother would make on my birthday, but don't really remember any of the birthday presents my parents gave me when I was growing up. I know there were always presents, I just don't recall what they were. Or did we always get money in our birthday card like we did as adults? Maybe that proves that the little things really are the things we remember down the road. Or maybe it just proves I have an obsession with food.

I wonder how my mom felt the day I was born. I'm sure she felt guilty for missing Linda's confirmation. She was probably very nervous with each baby she had after Cindy was stillborn. Hearing me cry that first time, must have been music to her ears, just as my own children's first cries were to mine. When I was pregnant with Danielle, I was very afraid that the umbilical cord would wrap around her neck and she would be stillborn like Cindy. My doctor assured me that was a very rare occurrence. Danielle must have known I was still worried. She was delivered by c-section. As soon as I I heard her cry, I was relieved and asked the doctor, "What is it?" meaning was it a girl or a boy. His answer was, "It's a head!" Yes, she was already crying when just her head was out! (Sorry if that is too much information!) When I was pregnant with Lauren and Evan, I was considered high risk because I was having twins. That of course worried me, but a strange thing happened when I was pregnant with them. Everytime I saw a rainbow in the sky, it was always a double rainbow. It happened so many times that I actually started to believe that it was God sending me a sign (a double sign) that both babies would be fine. I did have some preterm labor and was on bed rest for six weeks. When they were delivered by c-section at 37 weeks, hearing their two healthy cries was beautiful. 

In the first real memories I have of Mother, I am sitting in her lap in a rocking chair in the living room at the farm and she is rocking me to sleep singing Rock A Bye Baby, in her off key singing voice. (I inherited that same off-key singing voice!) The next memory I have of her is of her cleaning the house and humming and singing Love is a Many Splendored Things...yes that was off key too. Funny, I don't sing when I clean house. Seems like I'm usually grumbling about how noone in our house ever picks up after themselves. Maybe I'll try singing next time. I'll try to do it quietly so the dogs next door don't start howling. I remember many times telling my mom I was bored and her answer was always, "I wish I had time to be bored." I never understood that as a kid. As a mom, I understand completely.

Last week, Lauren asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I asked her if I could just skip having a birthday this year. She answered, "Only if you are a Leap Day baby!" That was exactly what my mom was, born on February 29, 1924. We always thought it was the coolest thing that she only had a "real" birthday every four years. We teased my dad about robbing the cradle, since he was 29 and married my mom when she was really only 5 1/2. On "real" birthdays, Mother would receive tons of birthday cards and calls from half of Caledonia. One year the Caledonia Argus even wrote an article on her being a Leap Day baby. I recently found two tiny items in the Winona newspaper  from 1928 and 1932 when Mother had her first two "real" birthdays. Both talked about how her mom gave her a special birthday party to celebrate her Leap Day birthday. I thought it was neat, since we always made an extra big deal for her birthday in Leap Years as well. In 2008, when Mother turned 21, we all teased her that she was finally legal to drink.

This year is a Leap Year, so Mother would have had a real birthday. It was very hard for me leading up to that day. The "firsts" after a loved one's death are especially hard. The fact that there would be a Leap Day, made it very hard. The weather forecast a few days before the 29th, was for lots of snow. We hadn't had any significant snow all winter. I told the kids that Grandma was up in Heaven trying to convince God to give them a snow day for her birthday. Here in the Twin Cities, it is an extremely rare event to have a snow day. Danielle is 15, and I could only recall her ever having one snow day. But my kids were hoping. Then the forecast changed. Snow was no longer expected when we went to bed on the 28th. When I awoke just before 6 am on the 29th, there was quite a bit of snow on the ground...more than we'd seen all winter. But I still doubted it was enough to cancel school. I told Eric that if school was going to be cancelled, the district makes the decision by 6 a.m. At 6:01, the phone rang. It was an automated message from the school district. There was a snow day! I have never seen the kids get out of bed so fast...ever! They were out playing in the snow by 6:15. They spent the entire day outside. And I swear they were convinced Grandma had something to do with it. While I'm not sure, I do know that if there was any way she could pull that off, she would have. What I do know is that I will never forget that snow day and the fact that it made that "first" a little easier on us.

In thinking about my birthday, I pulled out my baby book. It tells me I was born at 11:53am. (Apparently just in time for lunch, which might be where my food obession began.) I was 8 lbs 6 oz and 20 1/2 inches long at birth. (I am now 5 ft 3 and thankful that my weight is no longer recorded for the world to see.) I got my first tooth at 7 1/2 months. I walked at 10 months 4 days. There is a little piece of hair from my first haircut tied in ribbon inside the book. I remember that at one time there was more of my hair in the ribbon, but I untied the ribbon and lost some of it when I was younger. I never told my mom. I bet she knew and never said anything. But the most precious thing to me in my baby book is to see my full name, Kimberly Kaye Betz, written in my mom's handwriting. It brings tears to my eyes. As I gently run my fingers across my name, I imagine her writing it wtih love forty six years ago. In my heart I can hear her saying, "Happy Birthday to My Baby!"

Yes, it really is the little things that mean the most.