You know that feeling of sadness when your child has a birthday? I never really got what that was all about. Every year I am beyond excited to celebrate the birthday of the earthlings. Birthdays are fun and happy days when you get away with a lot of shit people wouldn’t take from you on any other day of the year. Plus you get treats, presents, calls, texts and an avalanche of Facebook greetings. Kids get to celebrate their birthdays in school, at home, with a party and for our family a series of Skype video calls. We all know that a party can only mean two great joys in life – party spaghetti that only we know how to make in the Philippines and birthday CAKE dangerously loaded with icing. So what’s the sulking all about??? What’s there not to enjoy about your child’s birthday??? They are obviously thrilled and bouncing off the walls with sugar overload. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Then the strangest thing happened to me. The most uncharacteristic and peculiar emotion swept over me. No, that’s not dramatic enough. It was more of a steamroll than a sweep. Last week I took a look at Aiden and felt this unexplainable feeling of heartbreak and nostalgia. Heartbreak and nostalgia? What the hell is going on here??? I certainly am not pregnant but could I possibly be menopausal? It wasn’t Aiden’s birthday or it isn’t his birthday anytime soon. It was his face. His face has changed. Gone is his toddler face that I could cup in one hand. Gone are the chubby cheeks and baby rolls that jiggled when he laughed. Gone was his little head that fit perfectly in the base of my neck when I’d carry him to bed when he fell asleep in the car. He actually has cheekbones and a jawline when he smiles now. When he smiled that first time I noticed I there was that tug in my chest.
You know all those illogical questions/thoughts I ridiculed you sappy moms for? Well they came came rushing in.
How can this be happening?
My little Aiden is no longer a baby?
Where has the time gone?
Will he not be in love with me anymore?
Is he going to prefer his friends over me now?
So for all those times I made fun of your mushiness, for all those times I though you were being selfish, for all those times I deemed you as idiotic, for all those times your drama made me sick, for all those times I wish you got a grip. I apologize. I now understand that it is simply the other end of the same spectrum. The mothering end I usually am on is where I constantly have inappropriate, mean and scary thoughts.
I swear the next tantrum will be thrown by me.
What a selfish little brat.
Will you puhleez SHUT UP!
I need a fucking drink.