25 January 2009

Happy Birthday to me, me, me, and me

There are getting to be a lot of birthdays around here. :) They afford me joyful occasion to think on someone very dear to me: myself. I watch the clock until the minute when the birthday kid is really his new age, and all day I'm back nostalgiaville reliving the awful drives, the everlasting minutes, the immense relief and thanks, the annoying nurses and the curious nuns and that boring show about counterfeiting that's on the History channel every time we're in the hospital. And, of course, the baby, who delights us by looking like someone or no one, by being astonishingly beautiful or hilariously un-beautiful; who even so tiny bears the weight of a name, who suddenly is with us forever.

Happy Birthday to you, babies, and thanks for giving your moms a chance every year to think, That day, I did something that mattered.

6 comments:

Pam said...

Thanks for this, Rebekah.

Can't say as I remember all the exact times anymore, but dh is good for historical detail so he helps me out. :P

It is fun to look back on those events, and now to be able to share them with the children; our older ones remember their own version of the events surrounding siblings' births. It's a fun, fun family conversation.

Ethan, Zach, and Emma's Mom said...

I think birthdays are important for moms too. Especially my oldest. Not only is it the anniversary of his birth, but it is the anniversary of me becoming a mom. Now that's a mother's day.

Joy said...

I'm the same way--I watch the clock and try to be holding them at the moment, at least till they get too big. And I thank and praise God for the suffering I'm not currently enduring. :) Princess #2's birthday will always be bittersweet, as I miscarried the day she turned 2.

Rebekah said...

Pam, I like hearing the other kids' version of the day too. :)

EZEM, yes! I always try to remember a first time mom's Happy First Baby Day.

Joy, :( The calendar doesn't care, does it?

Gauntlets said...

I was just thinking how much fun it is to dress small people in ill-fitting names--they look so cute with those sleeves dragging on the floor, and it gives them something they never stop growing into. :)

Reb. Mary said...

Yeah. Before I had kids, I thought my birthday was about me. How silly. Now there are three household birthdays that are about me, and none of them is the one on which I myself was born ;D

>>who suddenly is with us forever<<
oh, the mysterious marvel of it all!