Wanting peace and quiet in the new year

Age 24 isn’t a big deal at this point. At 18, you can vote and 21 you can drink. Thereafter, it always just seems like a new number.
Twenty-four years ago this past Thursday, in the early hours of the morning, my mom woke my dad up and told him, “we’re having a baby today.” When he asked if it was time to go, she said, “No, I want to sleep a little more first.”
I’m the youngest of three and born about a month early on New Year’s Eve. My oldest sister, Katye, was eight and my sibling, Carter, was five. Both have memories of it.
Carter would tell me about waking up at about 7 a.m. to find grammy (our mom’s mom) sitting in the kitchen as my parents headed for the birthing center.
Katye, Carter and grammy had an early picnic lunch in the lobby of the birthing center, when the nurse came in and said, “if you want to see it, you better get in there. The head’s already out.”
I was born at about 10 a.m. Tuesday, Dec. 31, 1996.
One thing about being born on a holiday and in a birthing center is that you need to have a checkup within 24 hours after the birth.
My dad, after numerous phone calls, connected with a pediatrician who agreed to come in a little early, before her shift at the hospital on New Year’s day, to see me.
It was late afternoon by the time we left the birthing center and, of course, my mom hadn’t eaten, so they stopped at Taco Bell on the way home.
By the time my Katye was in high school, she started having New Year’s Eve parties at home and they became my birthday parties. One year, I beat all her friends at poker, despite being about 9 and barely knowing what poker was.
For my 16th birthday, I went with a group of my friends to WonderWorks in downtown Orlando.
WonderWorks is basically an interactive museum with exhibits on history and science, along with laser tag and a rope course.
Well, when we first got there, I tripped - to simplify the story - and the combat boots meant I didn’t really feel anything.
Of course, after laser tag and the rope course, when we went to lunch, my parents wanted to look at my ankle, which was getting sore at that point. It swelled up pretty quickly after taking my boots off.
The next day, my dad took me to an urgent care, which determined I’d sprained my ankle and probably fractured one bone in my foot. I used crutches for the rest of winter break from school.
Two years later, Katye had surgery the day before my birthday, which was supposed to be an out-patient procedure, but they ended up keeping her overnight for observation.
She had a PICC line for IV infusions in her arm at the time and voiced concern that it had moved (which is complicated, but can be terrible). We spent all day sitting in the hospital waiting for somebody to come check it and put a new one in.
We got out just after dinnertime and the day after, we went to the anatomy museum I’d wanted to go to, and I pushed her around in the wheelchair.
The last birthday I had at home with my family was 21, when we went to Medieval Times dinner theater and Carter bought me my first legal drink.
Two years ago, when living in Arkansas, I got home from work on New Year’s Eve to find that my power had been out for I don’t know how long.
I sat outside, with candles lit and eating ice cream cake while I waited for people to come fix the problem.
We’d talked about me going home for my birthday this year, but decided with COVID-19 still going on, it wasn’t a good idea.
I know some people like to make a big deal of birthdays, but I’ve never been one of those.
I spent New Year’s Eve at home, by myself, this year. After virtual lunch with my parents, I turned on the new season of “The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina” and played “Minecraft.”
Honestly, that’s fine. That’s all I really wanted, peace and quiet.