Yesterday we celebrated my nephew Benjamin's 1st birthday.
When I arrived at my sister Audrey's house, family and friends were talking and laughing, gathering together around the food counter or in the living room or down in the basement.
Kids were running around the house in packs, planning kickball teams and donning their newly-made paper crowns.
There was excitement everywhere. And then I spotted the birthday boy.
Benjamin was clinging to my dad (his "Pop-up") on the couch, while sitting on his lap. His big, round, blue eyes took everything around him in.
"Happy Birthday, Benja!" I exclaimed, giving him a big kiss on his rosy, just-asking-to-be-pinched cheek.
He gave me a little smile, but didn't unclench his fingers from my dad's shirt, and could barely keep his eyes from darting around, following every noise and movement he heard and saw.
He seemed to be thinking, "Why are all these people in my house, and more importantly, when are they leaving?"
It reminded me of one of Jerry Seinfeld's stand-up routines, where once again, he was so spot-on with an observation about everyday life:
"To me, the thing about birthday parties is that the first birthday party you have and the last birthday party you have are actually quite similar. You know, you just kinda sit there...you're the least excited person at the party. You don't even really realize that there is a party. You don't know what's going on.
Both birthday parties, people have to kinda help you blow out the candles. You can't do it...you don't even know why you're doing it. What is this ritual? What is going on?
It's also the only two birthday parties where other people have to gather your friends together for you. Sometimes they're not even your friends. They make the judgment. They bring 'em in, they sit 'em down, and they tell you, 'These are your friends! Tell them thank you for coming to my birthday party.'"
Indeed, when it was time for us to all sing "Happy Birthday" to Benjamin, he glanced around with a look of horror at the two dozen or so people gathered around his high chair.
Our pitch was terribly off-key, but his quivering lower lip seemed to imply that that was the least of his worries.
When Benjamin's eyes found my mom's (his Grandma's) face, he reached out to her hand, which seemed to calm him amidst the confusion.
"Grandma, I would rather be taking a nap right now," he seemed to be telling her.
And as Audrey placed the cupcake with one lit candle in front of him, I couldn't help but think that on any day other than his 1st birthday party, if Audrey were to hand him an object on fire, we would think she's nuts. But on his 1st birthday, we just kind of expect him to rationalize the concept of a lit candle on a cupcake and know what to do.
My husband and I were among the last people to leave Audrey's house at the end of the party. I saw Audrey look around at the empty pizza boxes, the bowls and cups and plates strewn about her kitchen and the new birthday gifts to put away.
But rather than looking like she was dreading getting her house back to normal, instead I saw a look of relief on her face. The party had gone off without a hitch. Everyone had a good time. And now the house was... quiet(er) again.
But no one had a look of relief as clear as Benjamin's. I think for his next birthday, he'll be more prepared.
And he'll try to arrange his nap time accordingly.
- Jane
LOL, great post! Jerry's words are so true too! My son screamed for half of his 1st birthday; thankfully, he was my 3rd so it was easier to take it in stride. Had my 1st child done that, I would've been a wreck! Happy Birthday Benjamin!
Posted by: Fairly Odd Mother | April 06, 2008 at 09:20 PM
What a great memory for Benjamin to have as he gets older. Like 4. You're a great Aunt, Jane.
Posted by: Melanie Notkin | April 06, 2008 at 10:42 PM