Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, Thomas!

You are the sweetest, smartest, cutest, kindest,
most beautiful baby boy that ever lived.

I love you.

2002

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011

This year, you turned nine and became an amazing reader.  You would only wear orange and you discovered the joys of the iPad.  You began telling us “I love you” without hearing it from us first and you decided the cats might actually be interesting after all.  You love school and can’t wait to go back this week and you notice and remember your friends more than ever.

And when I told you that the flash was making you close your eyes, you were fascinated and became determined to keep them open.

You are sweet and funny.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

♥♥

Aftermath

My kid makes me nuts when he’s in the backyard.

He throws everything, upends everything, over waters everything, breaks everything.

He’s full of energy today.  How can that be?  Wasn’t he here for the same birthday party I was?

How can someone so sweet be so maddening?

He’s bored.  I’m bored.  We’re boring.

Just one day left and then the new school year begins.

I can get through one more day.

I think I can.  I think I can.

His birthday was spectacular.  Really.

Lots of people in the house.  Lots of tall people.

Thank goodness for A/C.

There were odd social anxiety moments and sad after party realizations.

Did I really waste one of the rare times I’ve seen my nephew this year by talking only of his amazing height and nothing else?

I did.

I didn’t even think to ask if he likes his classes or has a favorite subject.  I never even tried to find out if there is a girl he has his eye on.

I never asked who his friends are, what teachers he has or how he likes going to school with his older sister.

I was distracted.  The opportunity to get those answers has escaped me yet again.  Sigh.

And his sister…my beautiful niece…thankfully, I saw her for lunch just a few weeks ago, but I don’t even know where she was for most of the party.  Dozing on the patio?  Maybe.  Eight-year-old’s birthdays aren’t really all the rage for teenagers.

I love them for coming all the way to my house.

And my other brother’s son, he made the trek too.  I’ve spent more time with him recently than with the other two, but not by much.  And his sister couldn’t come.

The other cousins were there – the younger two on my husband’s side.  Cute and funny.  Did I even remember to kiss their sweet little cheeks?

I don’t think I did.

Distracted.

On my feet.

Chop this.  Serve that.  Where are the plates?  Here are the plates.  Forgot the hats.

Salsa and chips.  Veggies and dip.  Lots of salad.  Eight pizzas.  And you saw the bright yellow cake.

Sisters-in-law and friends rocked with the ice cream scoop.

Fun.  Successful.  Exhausting.

Did I sit down?  Yes.  Yes, I did.  Once.  For a moment.  Achy feet.  Achy foot.  The left one.

I climbed into the jumpy.

I climbed into the jumpy.

I squeezed my huge self through that microscopic “door” and collapsed on the warm vinyl floor while birthday boy bounced my brain apart.

The trees and sky looked beautiful through the mesh rainbow wall nets.

But now it’s back to old routines and rules, the stuff of mommy survival.

Wake with the kid, feed the kid, drive the kid here, drive the kid there, start the “you love school” mind game and brace myself for Wednesday with a brand new teacher.

Brand new teacher.  Yeah, like that’s the first thing on Wednesday that will be difficult.  8:45 a.m…that will be the twentieth thing.

Grandma’s birthday breakfast at Aunt Emma’s will be the reward.

I think I can.  I think I can.

Happy Monday!

P.S.  I love that little birthday boy, but I’m ready for a break!  😀

♥♥