My younger daughter, Peony, won’t turn 1 for another half a year, but I’m already starting to think about her birthday (mostly because my older daughter, Petunia, turns 4 in half a year, and she made me start thinking about her birthday three hours after her last one ended).
I love other people’s birthdays, especially if those other people are my babies. In my family, we go big on celebrating birthdays. I don’t always agree so much with how big other celebrations have become, but celebrating the day that I gave birth to what amounts to the air in my lungs and the limbs on my body (because that’s how integral my daughters are to me)? Hell, yeah!
I can only imagine how fun it would be to have a Leap Day baby. And I can’t quite imagine why some people don’t see it that way.
Mary Fischer over at Café Mom wrote a piece about how horrifying it would be to have a Leap Day baby. Something about the difficulty of planning parties and enduring teasing from other kids. Maybe she was kidding, but I don’t actually think so.
I love planning for my girls’ birthdays. If I had a Leap Day baby (which I don’t, although I was once pregnant — and miscarried — a baby that was due on Feb. 29, and the idea of a special day being even more special was a playful prospect), I can only imagine the fun that would go into planning the big birthday bashes every four years — not to mention the other years when you can celebrate over the course of a few days to make up for the fact that they don’t have a specific day on the calendar.
I understand there can be some bureaucratic headaches with a Feb. 29 birthday if some government entities don’t have the date on their calendars, but same goes for kids who have different last names than their parents and want to, say, travel out of the country.
At the risk of sounding like a moron mom, any day your baby is born is special. Having a baby on Leap Day just comes with a few more built-in stories. Nothing less, although maybe just a little bit more.
How would you feel if your baby were born on Feb. 29?