Birthday Times!
When I reveal that I’m a Christmastime baby to someone (December 23 rd , represent!), I often see a mix of horror and pity flash across the face of the other person. This is generally followed by a comment along the lines of, “wow, that must have been hard growing up.” While having a birthday at this time of the year tends to mean that some things get lumped together, I grew up with the good fortune of having a mother born on the 17 th and a grandmother born on the 14 th .* Thus, by the time I came along, the expectation was already set in my family that separate gifts were given for birthday and Christmas, and everyone was celebrated individually on their own special days. A family picture on the day I came home from the hospital – Christmas day! From left, my great-grandmother, grandmother, and Mom, holding little ole me. In recent years, Chris and I still celebrate the two occasions independent of one another, but the entire time of gift giving and eating ...