Birthday Blessings

I have decided that we all approach our birthdays in different ways.  First, there is trepidation.  We worry about getting older. We fret about all the things we wanted to do and didn't.    Next, there is ambivalence.  It is simply another day in life.  Nothing more, nothing less.

And then, there are those who look on their birthday with joy.  Joy for having been given another year to live life, be with family, share with friends. That's not to say there is only one choice. Every birthday is different.

Today, on my birthday, there is joy.  I am well and truly blessed. I also started the day with tears.  The good kind.

The morning started off with my wonderful husband bringing me these beautiful roses:

You have to understand the type of relationship we have to understand how sweet this is.   I will be the first to tell you that I am not primarily a romantic person.  My husband is a fantastic mate, partner, husband, father, etc.  He does so very much for me to help me be a better person.  So, when flowers show up, they are even more special because they are not the most common way we express love.

And I would have it no other way.

He also brought me what has to be the sweetest card EVER.  For a man who can be silent, he does a phenomenal job at finding what he wants to say in the middle of a Hallmark card.

After work, I thought I'd go have a birthday dinner with myself.  A little time alone to celebrate me. That idea lasted for about five minutes.

Birthdays are about love and togetherness for me.  So, hubs had to work. So what?  Ziggy was still at home. And while he might not fully understand the "specialness" of birthdays.  I do, and I wanted to spend it with him. Instead of a steak and veggies and free birthday cheesecake, I had Sloppy Joe's made with my son.  One of the best birthday dinners to date.

The day started with tears. The day ends with them as well. Both times, good tears.  My day has been one of joy. Thankfulness for another year of life.  Appreciation for more love than I ever could have imagined.

And anticipation for what the next year (if I am again so blessed to have it) will bring.

Four

肆


४


ארבע


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Four.  


Today, my son is four.   And I am blessed,  For four years, I have been gifted with this wonderful human being.  I have been allowed to watch him grow, learn, and love.
  

Since Ziggy isn't to the point of asking for a birthday party as yet, we have decided to forgo that activity until he does. Instead, we continued the family tradition of  birthday dinner.  To make sure everyone could attend (well, all six of us anyway), we had dinner yesterday.  Ziggy opened presents, which really consisted of two Pillow Pets...which he has been asking to get for about the last six months.  

Since it was birthday time, Nana and I obliged.  My son later said something to me that marks this transition from toddler to little boy more profound than anything else could have.


He told me he was thankful for his gifts.  

This morning, the other man in my life (hubs) did what has to be the sweetest thing.  Since Z had gotten his presents yesterday, he didn't have any for today.  I had already planned a surprise trip for him, so I didn't think about it.  To make sure he also got something on his actual birthday, Dad brought Z the balloon to the right and a Scooby Doo DVD.  Having grown up with a single Mom and a father whom I haven't seen since I was ten, I am continually amazed by how thoughtful a good Dad can be.


As for today's surprise, that occurred after Z dutifully posed for his four-year-old pictures this morning.  

A few weeks ago, my mother had brought me some coupons.  In that stack of coupons was one for Chuck E. Cheese tokens.  So, we went.  160 tokens, 2.5 hours, countless helicopter rides, three photos, 430 tickets, and several prizes bought with said tickets later, we headed home.   We played, we laughed, and we spent that time just being together.  






Four years ago, I walked into a hospital full of anticipation, fear, trepidation.  Soon, a doctor was going to bring my son into this world and give him into my safekeeping.  Such a daunting task.  For the previous 42 weeks (he wasn't in any hurry), he had been cuddled: safe, warm.   Not a care.  Not a worry.  No concerns from me about how I would make sure this little creature never had those cares or worries.


Four years later, there are sometimes cares.  There are sometimes worries.  I make mistakes.  I learn from them, and I move on.  


But, more importantly, there is love.  There is laughter.  There are moments when I wonder how I was chosen for this task.  I wonder what I did to be so worthy of the gift that is my son.  No longer a toddler, he is now and will always be my little boy.   


And that makes me the luckiest Mom on the planet.

525,600 Minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

Or in my case, three. In just over 24 hours, Z will turn three years old. As I sit here, on the eve of this momentous day, I think about time. God has, so far, gifted me with 1,576,800 minutes of time with my son. When I look at that number, it seems like such a large amount. In reality, it is so very small. I know that every parent says the same thing, "It seems like only yesterday that he was born." Cliche as it may be, it is also very true. I feel like I blinked and here we are.

The day he was born, I had been eagerly awaiting his arrival. We had been trying to have a baby for almost six years at that point, and we had sent our first son, Aidan, home to be with Jesus. I had spent 42 weeks waiting to meet Z. I had a relatively easy pregnancy and expected labor to be the same. Not so much. Fourteen hours later, my doctor decided that since Z was not coming on his own, he would go get him. I was not allowed to have my glasses, so it would be another few hours before I was able to meet my son.

Another cliche proved to be true the moment the nurse brought his bassinet through the door. "Love at first sight" does not even begin to describe how I felt about my son. He was bundled up in the hospital blankets with a hat that had been crocheted by hospital volunteers. He was sleeping so very soundly and looked so peaceful. My heart and mind were overwhelmed with love for him.

Now, three years later, I still struggle to comprehend how it is possible to have this much love. I watch my son and husband play in the floor, listen to Z tell his dad to stop, run away, and then run back for more, and I think I am the luckiest woman in the world. Over the last three years, we have endured ear infections, tubes, allergies, shots, bumps, and bruises. But, even more important, we have seen crawling, walking, learning, growing, and more giggles than I can ever count (which, I have to say, is my favorite sound in the world; it beats ANY music ever composed).

Only God knows how many more minutes He will grant us in this life. All I know is that I will not waste even one that I am given. I will love my family with all that I am, give them all that I can, and not look back on any moment with regret. I pray that God will give us as much time as possible to be together and be thankful for all the time we are granted. I will ensure that Z and his Nana get their time together. Most of all, I will continue to give God the glory for all He has done for us and remember that all gifts are from Him.

For now, it is time to spend the next 60 minutes or so building a mega block birdhouse.