The Last Birth Day
It’s my baby’s birthday tomorrow. He turns 3. He is kind, compassionate, generous, and the sweetest little snuggle bug there is. He’s both sturdy in body and spirit, and rocks the best haircuts with the cutest grin. I could drop all the sappy adjectives on you, just like any mom could while thinking about the best parts of their child on the day before they turn 3 (which I’ve been told is 1/6th the way to 18, which is legally an adult…so there’s that). My heart ached putting him to bed tonight: today he is 2; he is a toddler; he needs help putting his socks on and pulling his pants up over his little baby butt; today he holds my hand, interlacing our fingers so that he can touch as much of me as possible; today he crawls up on my chest and curls up like he remembers that comfort of infancy…if I’m honest, I know that all of those things will still be true tomorrow, but tomorrow doesn’t seem to last as long as it used to. I heard once that time is like a toilet paper roll, the closer you get to the end, the faster it unravels. My heart aches thinking of the next 5/6ths of his life, knowing it will come sooner than I can imagine, and not knowing what to do with that. I could get lost in the future and the ache that I know will come when he no longer wants to hold my hand; I could get lost in all the times I’ve felt like I failed him, lost my patience, yelled at him, not paid attention when he was talking, or not snuggled him to sleep. I could get lost in that, oh so easily.
My therapist would be pissed, though.
I feel like I should, instead, take the time to move forward with a new intention. I’m writing it down and sharing it with the interweb to hold myself accountable. The intention I am putting into the Universe for the next 15 years is to live presently. To be here and now. To offer gratitude, exude love, and practice patience. Lord, God, help me practice patience. I will take more breaths, set a better example in my words, actions, and tone. I will pray more. I will slow down to the speed of a 3-year-old, because even though they seem to make life go fast, they actually go quite slowly, i.e. picking a favorite whapping stick from the woods, or stopping to squish mud between your toes, or peeling an orange, building a castle, smelling each-and-every-flower, watching the bees float between blooms…
With this intention, I also promise myself the grace to accept imperfection, and humility to ask for forgiveness. The darn toilet paper roll is unraveling too fast (a catastrophe these days, amiright?)
Tomorrow marks not only my baby’s 3rd circle around the sun, but my last birth day (as far as I know). The finality of it feels sad, but…popping a baby out doesn’t feel super great either, so I’m going to call it a wash. Happy Birth Day to us, baby boy.