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The birthday that never ends

My daughter’s second birthday was in March.

That would be the March that was 6 weeks ago.

We are going on seven weeks since her birthday and talking to her you would think it was yesterday.

Part of this is my fault. We were moving during her birthday so the actual day of her birthday was a quick ice cream cake from Dairy Queen and presents in an unfamiliar house.

About a month later, when I finally felt as though the house was presentable to friends, we held a small party for her with only our closest friends (and mostly 4 1/2 year olds).

Then, to top it off, gifts have slowly continued to trickle in from well-meaning family who realized they missed her actual birthday.

My daughter is now convinced that her birthday is every day. And if it isn’t, then it should be.

She requests that her daycare teacher sing her Happy Birthday at lunchtime. She requests the same thing of me at breakfast… I have quit indulging this and lately we instead sing Happy birthday to our 10-year-old dog who has a May birthday.

Whenever a box comes in the mail, she announces that it is “for my birthday!” And most evenings, she asks to have a “birthday party at my house” — aka a repeat of the small party with the close friends.

And this evening, when I announced we would have friends over for a playdate this weekend, her reply was, “for my birthday, yay!”

Sigh.

And yes, I have told her, “No, it is not your birthday for a long, long time again.”

But even I know that is a fib… her third birthday will be here before I know it.

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