Here's a brainteaser: Kim turns 11 this month. Her son turns 15 in April.
Huh?
Kim was born Feb. 29. She's a leap year baby.
I've been friends with Kim Wagner Olson since she was born here in Traverse City and, in fact, my dad helped decide her birthday.
Kim's mom, Liz Wagner, the queen of good sports, had a due date for Kim in late February. When it became apparent that Kim would be delivered by Caesarean section, my dad, Dr. Ken Taylor, their family doctor, immediately suggested scheduling the C-section for Leap Day.
(My dad loved anomalies. He once held a one-second party because the clock and calendar lined up at 1:23:45 6-7-89.)
So this mirthful decision, by a woman just wanting to not be pregnant anymore and a doctor known for pranks, means Kim is now younger than her own kids.
Of course, physically and mentally, she's in her 40s. But every four years she celebrates her real birthday and her real age with parties befitting her true youthfulness.
Four years ago, her friends gave her Barbies, knowing a 10-year-old would go nuts over them.
This year, she's looking forward to much more mature gifts, as befiitting her lofty stature as an 11-year-old, such as Hannah Montana music and Zac Efron posters.
When it's not leap year, Kim celebrates her birthday Feb. 28 because "I feel strongly that February is my birth month." She had to wait until March 1 to be old enough to drink, even though she was, in merry prankster years, 5.
She loves it.
"I love everything about having a leap year birthday," she e-mailed from her home in Holland, Mich. "It has always made me feel special. My real birthdays have always been extra-special occasions, mostly thanks to my family and friends. I hear from people I haven't heard from since grade school."
And, she points out, for every million people, only 684 are leap year babies.
The drawbacks are small. Her driver's license expires on March 1 but lists her birthday as Feb. 29, which causes cautious store clerks to look twice. And some Internet forms won't accept 2/29 as a birth date.
But the benefits far outweigh those trivial things. "Even my sons' friends remember my birthday," Olson says, "How many kids know their friend's parent's birthdays?"
Jodee Taylor is a specialty publications coordinator at the Record-Eagle. Reach her at jtaylor@record-eagle.com
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