Birthdays are not what they used to be

By Alexia Saleem

Birthdays just aren’t what they used to be since having children.

I used to make a big deal out of mine. I’d take the day off work, bake cakes and take savouries into the office for my co-workers, have breakfast with my family, get my hair and nails done, go out for lunch with friends, spend the afternoon taking it easy or meeting someone for coffee, come home and get ready to go back out for dinner and drinks.

It was basically a day of pure self-indulgence, with lots of food because in my 30s I genuinely believed that you can’t gain weight on your birthday.

When I met my husband and moved to London, my birthdays took a somewhat different turn. Again, I’d take the day off, but instead of popping by the office, which is much easier to do in Nicosia than London, how I spent my day often depended on Sheeraz’s work schedule. Some years we were able to have breakfast together before he went into the office and other years, I had breakfast alone before making plans for the day.

I spent a good chunk of the first birthday we shared in London together trying to fight back tears. It wasn’t quite the birthday I’d been expecting, and I ended up feeling very sorry for myself. I also remember feeling really embarrassed that I was taking it so badly because I was supposed to be mature enough to know better. But I wasn’t and that made me feel worse. My brother didn’t even call me to wish me happy birthday because I’d had him and his wife round at the weekend for lunch, so he thought we were done with celebrating.

But sometimes, when things don’t go as we expect, we open ourselves up to new experiences and opportunities. After having a good cry over lunch with my sister who, instead of judging me, just gave me the space to vent my feelings, she invited me to a lecture on lab grown meat at The Royal Geographical Society organised by Intelligence Squared. I’d never been to a lecture like that before and thought to myself, why not?

It was an incredible experience that not only expanded my mind but also left me feeling very privileged to be living in a city that gave me access to such interesting events.

After that first sobering London birthday experience, my expectations changed. I discovered I enjoyed spending my birthday in my own company and doing things that were much more low-key. I also started pre-ordering my own gift: the latest John Grisham novel, which invariably comes out on or around my birthday.

One of the best birthdays I had pre-children was when I was five months pregnant. I spent it swimming at the pool in the morning, baking Christmas cakes in the afternoon and then going out for a quiet dinner with my husband, siblings and sister-in-law.

The year the children were born was my 40th. Most people I know have a big party for their ‘Big 4-0’. I don’t think I’d have had a big party, but I certainly would have chosen to do something other than spend it in hospital with my son, who was seven months old and dehydrated after catching a virus.

That birthday passed in a blur as Leonida was prodded and poked by goodness knows how many doctors and nurses, to try to bring his fever down. It was an exhausting experience for all four of us and I remember feeling wretched as he screamed when they tried to pin his arm down to put an intravenous cannula in, which he kept pulling out.

Every birthday since, we’ve spent it as a family, going with the flow and doing what we do most days of the week, only with birthday cake. This year I didn’t even have the right candles and made do with 55. Next year it’ll no doubt be 66.

And, these days I enjoy whatever comes my way. One of the best I celebrated wasn’t even on the actual day. We celebrated the weekend before by switching off our phones and taking the kids to the Heath for the day, stopping off to get ice cream for breakfast. When my birthday came and went, I barely noticed.

It’s funny how things like a birthday can feel like such a big deal at one stage of your life and then lose their importance in another. Perhaps that’s down to personal growth or simply a side effect of motherhood. Either way, these days I’m just delighted to wake up another year older and to get lots of cuddles from my kids while they’re still at an age they think spending time with their parents is the best thing since sliced bread.