The Ninth of September
Their first birthday had been a spectacle. Beth had only had them for a few months at that time. She'd made it through the summer with them, working limited hours at her job in order to figure out a home routine, and thus sacrificing a lot just to ensure her new family got off to a decent start. But though there was still progress to be made for stability by the time September 9th rolled around, all of her family, friends, and apparently whoever else felt like it, still insisted on showing up, using the boys' birthday as a pretense for ogling her anomaly of a family.
Her mom hadn't yet gotten over her disapproval of the situation, pointing out every little mess in her home, and questioning every little decision Beth made for the boys. Her friends stood awkwardly about, treating her like she was a different person, like they'd never met her before and didn't know what to say. Her dad kept trying to slip her some cash, while the one set of grandparents she still had left were less subtle in their efforts to talk about her financial situation. And then there were plenty of faces she didn't recognize that had somehow wandered in, acting as if it was their business to be there, casting judgment and whispering comments under their breaths.
Thus, their second birthday was much more private.
Though the people in Beth's life had quieted down by then, she still chose to ignore any questions about planning a party and allowed herself to enjoy a birthday with her sons in peace. Well, in as much peace as five 2-year-old toddlers could manage. They ended up making a disaster of the kitchen as she tried using their help to make a cake. Flour on noses and batter on the walls, the whole bit. It was the most fun she'd ever had with them, the first time she gave herself permission to stop caring about being perfect. She would remember their unrestrained laughter and squeals of glee for years.
The next several birthdays were similarly private and energetic. She couldn't afford gifts and there never seemed to be enough friends for parties, so she made up for it with creative activities to make the day special. Crafts or games were the go-tos, with an occasional movie as they got older and could sit still longer.
Their ninth birthday was the "golden birthday," when their age matched the date, and that year she did splurge a bit and took them to see a soccer game in one of the bigger cities. That was the moment that started it all, the soccer obsession that would overtake their lives for the next several years. All she had wanted to do was distract them from the revelation they'd had earlier that year, about their birth parents and the fact that Echo's birthday was technically two weeks earlier and she'd pretended otherwise this whole time just to keep them from questioning the past until they were ready to understand it. And as a consequence she'd now have to deal with them being distracted by sports every day for the next decade. Oh well.
It wasn't until the were in the double-digits that she started inviting others again. She'd been back on good terms with her parents for a while but they had moved and visits simply weren't as convenient. But with the boys making more friends as they got older, she very well couldn't be that mom who deprived them of what everyone else had, and everyone else had birthday parties. Sure, the decorations were from the dollar store, and the only food she could offer was cheap pizza and a generic sheet cake from Costco, but young kids didn't care about such things. The fact they could say they had a party, and could be allowed to run around with their friends doing who-knew-what, that was enough.
Eventually, teenage angst got in the way, as it often did, so their fifteenth birthday was another tumultuous one. No one could agree on what do to celebrate. Wrecker and Echo wanted to keep things the same and just invite people over. Tech wanted to have more of an interesting outing, such as going to the newly opened cornfield maze. Hunter seemed embarrassed to want to do anything, and Crosshair was set on being contrary and arguing against any idea that was thrown out.
Beth had tried her hand at making a cake again, as a surprise, but ended up being so exhausted with their quarreling that she went to bed early for the night. The boys discovered the cake in the fridge later and felt awful, but not quite enough to snap out of their brooding, bickering personas just yet. No, those would continue to fester for a while longer.
But the nice, fun birthdays got back on track the following year, giving the Batch house a few more years of shared memories before they grew up too much. Eventually they graduated, started traveling, moving away, turning into adults with ambitions and futures. Birthdays wouldn't look quite the same after that.
All Beth could do was cherish the memories... and enjoy her flowers. She wasn't sure who started the tradition - she suspected Echo - but after the first year they had all been apart for their birthday in their twenties, they each started sending her flowers, every September 9th. Even though she hadn't been the one to give birth to any of them, they still felt she deserved some recognition for all the years she'd tried to give them a special day, even amidst any chaos or financial struggle or social awkwardness.
And toward each other, they'd acknowledge their shared day with nothing more than a simple Happy Birthday text in the group chat... Except Echo, who'd teasingly text back, Guess you guys forgot my birthday again...