Most of us think of birthdays as our day to be pampered and honored. When we are little, our parents threw parties for us and made us feel special for being such a "big kid". We wondered what toys or presents the day would bring, and looked forward to each candle we blew out; one more every year that we got older brought more responsibility and independence. One more year closer to being an adult.
Mom and Me:
Two months after my first child, Gracie, was born, I turned 23. I found that the only thing I could think of all day was my Mom. I woke up and recounted the stories she told about the day I was born. Having just gone through labor myself, I watched the clock all day and remembered her stories of my birthday, and compared them with my own experience. I felt for her, since I was her first baby, and wondered if she had been as scared as I had been. And for the first time in my life, I understood the pain that she had undergone. Well, almost. You see, my Mom was braver than I. She had nearly a nine-pound baby without an epidural. I had an epidural, thankfully. Which solidified even more in my mind that my mom is Superwoman. (My mother-in-law had my husband breach; without an epidural...which makes respect the heck out of her on February 12 every year. Yikes!)
An embarrassing one of me picking my nose on my birthday:
A birthday can also be a bittersweet thing for me now. I think about my parents and how it must feel to have an adult child, and hope for/dread the day that my children celebrate adult birthdays. I think that's why we make such a big deal out of a baby's first birthday. Its really for the parents, because the baby doesn't know what's going on. Birthdays are blessings in that they mark how many years your hard work and fretfulness have succeeded in keeping this precious, fragile little human alive. But birthdays are also reminders of how fast time moves and how quickly your little baby is turning into an adult. Its a day thats truly wonderful and truly painful all wrapped up in one. You remember the amazing joy as you met this little baby and yet, feel so sad that you only had a few moments with them in your arms before they wanted to leap out of them. I wonder if my Mom feels the same today.
So, today, and for the rest of my birthdays, I honor my parents for their sacrifices and hard work that raised me from the little helpless baby I was, to the capable adult that I am today. I admire and respect my Mom for staying home and raising us. I am sure it was tough for her, because I know that it sometimes can be the toughest, most thankless job on earth. But mostly, I thank them both for helping me still so that I can keep having birthdays, and so that my kids can too. Thank your Mom on YOUR birthday...she deserves it!
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