Christmas festivities — over.

Decorations and gifts — stashed away.

New Years — rung in and resolutions made. 

And while all of you have finished reveling in the holiday hoop-la, I have one more thing to celebrate — my 23^rd birthday. 

It has always been awkward to have a birthday falling shortly after Christmas. I sympathize with the Christmas babies, and all those born in December or January. December babies are often put off by Christmas shopping frenzies and often complain of birthday presents wrapped in holiday paper, while January babies may find themselves in the aftermath, receiving re-gifts or the last few items Santa didn’t deliver. 

Having my birthday on Jan. 10, I have experienced some of that in the past, but despite the proximity of my birthday to Christmas, I’ve always been able to do something special for my birthday. 

The past two years family and friends have all trucked up to Sugarloaf for skiing and merriment — a little more merriment than skiing thanks to a lack of snow. 

In years prior to that there were special dinners at nice restaurants, family parties, friend parties, sleepovers and playing in the snow. 

I have yet to run across a year when I’m not exactly excited to “get older,” until now. 

I know 23 isn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, especially with my grandparents in their 80s, but it is past the point of the major birthdays. Becoming a teenager at 13, celebrating “sweet 16” and getting my license, earning voting privilege at 18 and finally turning 21 at midnight in a bar. 

Turning 23 is just sort of blah, and the next real milestone is 30, which is scary to think about at this point. 

Maybe it’s because I’m trying to assess what I want versus what I need to let my parents know what exactly they should dish out for this birthday. Maybe it’s because I’m no longer in school so I’m not coming to the end of a month long vacation — I’m at work, I’ve been at work (with the exception of holidays off) and I will be at work. Maybe it’s because there is a feeling about 23 that indicates I’m an adult — not a college student, but a college graduate — and this is life. 

It’s a weird feeling to try to put into words, but I’m sure I’m not the first to contemplate why each birthday comes with a little less excitement as the numbers add up. 

Nevertheless, I will celebrate just the same. 

I’m treating myself to a facial with my mother whose birthday is only a week later (happy birthday mom). Then a nice dinner with my parents — I’m still contemplating where we’ll go — and wrapping up the day with a party with friends.

Sounds like decent birthday plans, because no matter how much you dread turning a year older or how close in proximity your birthday lies to a holiday, I think you should always do something to celebrate your life, health and happiness. 

— Emma Bouthillette