Christmas Birthdays Forgotten in the Mix

People born on Dec. 25 are overshadowed by the holiday By [Lorraine Duffy Merkl] Last year"s cause cÃ&Copy;lèbre was the name-changing of the towering spruce in front of 30 Rock to â??The Tree. This year, the title"s been restored to the â??Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree. With at least that War On Christmas battle behind us, I would like to take up a new banner: sensitivity to the segment of our population who are always overshadowed by the holiday festivities because they share their birthday with Christ. I do this on behalf of my husband, Neil, and daughter, Meg, who are both Christmas babies. They sit back and admire twinkling lights that are not from candles atop their cakes; get pushed aside by frantic shoppers hunting for gifts that aren"t for either of them; and get invited to parties not thrown in their honor. How do people born on Dec. 25 not get lost in the holiday hubbub? By adopting the Glenn Close/Fatal Attraction dictum: â??I won"t be ignored! And by having someone like me whose holiday priorities are: Meggie, Daddy and Jesus's in that order. Dec. 1 rolls around and it"s officially declared â??Birthday Season 's with all things Noël redirected to pay tribute to father and daughter. While most people are not yet thinking about buying their trees and wreaths, mine are up and decorated with a number of birthday-themed ornaments. The kitchen radio, usually stuck on some sports banter station, finds a new home on Lite-FM, whose temporary playlist is all Christmas music all the time to honor who? Neil and Meg. Birthday cards are displayed in their own area so as not to compete with holiday greetings. Mere minutes into the Advent calendar, Meg hands me a list of wants, then takes on the persona of Nancy Drew, snooping to see which gifts I may have purchased. All items, I am told, can work for either Christmas or her birthday. This brings me to the issue about which people are always most curious: presents. Neil and I had our first Christmas/birthday in 1981, after dating for six months. I extolled the benefit of the double celebration: One Big Present. â??OBP, he said, â??is another name for â??gypped." That year, and for all the years that followed, I made a point of two separate gifts, but couldn"t help but notice what a low-key day it was for him personally. He seemed nonplussed by the greeting, â??Merry Christmas, oh yeah, and Happy Birthday, and with being just another person getting a gift. I chalked up his nonchalance to the fact that he was a grown man, not a 6-year-old. He showed his true colors, though, 13 years ago when Meg was born. Neil seemed determined that she would not know the â??one-upped by Jesus status to which he had become accustomed. We have no qualms about the double load of gifts she gets, which are distinguished by different wrapping paper themes and not given at the same time. We exchange Christmas gifts first thing in the morning; birthday loot after dinner, where dessert is always birthday cake. At the end of the day, although I know it"s still not the same as having 24-hours totally devoted to the day they were born, I"m confident that my Christmas babies believe they have gotten their due. That is the only thing that is important to me, so much so that I don"t even make my own list for Santa. In fact, I don"t care if I never again get anything for Christmas. Neil and Meg are not only the two best presents I"ve ever received, but the gifts that keep on giving. _ Lorraine Duffy Merkl"s debut novel Fat Chick, from The Vineyard Press, is available at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.