Tuesday. September 7, 2010. 10:09pm PST
I have a little under two hours left of my son's 11th birthday to do his birthday post. I would feel badly if I had missed it as this blog is about documenting life...and today life was all about his birthday. Hence, why I had no time to sit down and post. I was lucky he even let me drag him outside for five minutes to take his picture.
I have written before (here and here) about my love for this boy and why I believe I have been blessed with such an amazing kid. I know we all say that about our own, but we are meant to. It is simply a mother's love speaking out of the overflow of her heart. Really, this is one of the coolest eleven year olds you will ever meet...
He told me today "was the best birthday ever" (smile). He says this every year, and every Christmas. I am coming to see more and more that he loves our love. What a silly thing to say, what kid doesn't? But do you know what I mean? He soaks up the thoughtful attention and efforts towards showing our love for him on his birthday (and any day) and it is revealed by his smile and joyful, thankful heart. (It's probably why he was so agreeable to let me take his picture today.) I know he loves the gifts, but I know that he loves the way we make it a point to celebrate him. Celebrate him. There is nothing more special than to be celebrated...not in a vain, materialistic way...but in a way that humbles you with kindness, encouragement, and love. Have you ever been celebrated this way?
Here are some things we did to celebrate him...
Last year I decorated his bunk bed with birthday signs and thoughts of why we loved him. He left it up all year and finally took it down the eve of his birthday. This was telling to me. I could tell there was a desire in him to see a fresh set of well wishes this morning and so I stayed up late with the box of crayons, making fresh signs, writing a new list of "11 things we love about you". He was overjoyed at the morning surprise (and even by the fact that I added new curly ribbon to dangle down like rain over his bottom bunk).
We gathered around the breakfast table (at the crack of dawn because it was a school day--he even reminded us to set our alarms the night before so we would wake up extra early) for our traditional sugar filled breakfast: the favorite special birthday cereal. He picked out Resess Puffs, which is also his dad's favorite so it worked out for at least two of the four of us.
We sang to him and he opened his family gifts, hugged us all, even his sister.
He went off to school and discovered his birthday greeting on the school marquee and then heard it announced over the morning speaker.
At 1:30pm he discovered his mom had left some special class treats (watermelon, grapes, and popcorn) with his teacher as a surprise.
At 2:00pm I picked him after school and we took a trip to Target to shop the aisles and discuss the many ways he could spend his $40 gift card from his Auntie L. We shopped for nothing else at Target. I think this alone was a bday gift he will cherish forever. After purchasing his picks he chose a snack at the Target snack shop, a total treat: A red Icee and a cinnamon pretzel.
We came home and played Stratego, his new favorite game.
Then we left for a family gathering at a pizza parlor. He wanted all thirteen of us to sit around one table. And he thanked and hugged each person as he opened their gifts.
We quietly sang him "happy birthday" as he told me he was a little concerned about everyone in the pizza parlor looking at him.
We ate his birthday dessert that he had chosen: cherry popovers from the bakery and vanilla ice cream. (He is not a cake lover.)
We came home and tucked him in bed, saw him fight back the tears over having to say goodbye to his special day. I told him that as he lay his head on his pillow he was to think about God and the angels celebrating the day he was born and even more so celebrating the person he was.
I remember eleven years ago sitting in the hospital, awake in the middle of the night, bawling my eyes out at the overwhelming hormonal rush of emotions flooding through my veins. My husband was asleep in the pull out cot, my newborn son was asleep in the little baby bed next to me, and I watched a lightening storm dance outside my hospital window. It was a night I will never forget. I had just delivered this tiny baby and I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. I was completely overwhelmed and the stormy night sky was the visual. And yet I knew I loved that tiny baby asleep next to me.
Eleven years have passed and I still see some of that tiny baby face in my pre-teen son. Those eyes have always been the purest of blue and wide set. He's always had those full lips. His body has always been long and lean, not an ounce of fat.
And now, at eleven, I can finally say his feet are bigger than mine. I knew this day would come.
Here are some things we did to celebrate him...
Last year I decorated his bunk bed with birthday signs and thoughts of why we loved him. He left it up all year and finally took it down the eve of his birthday. This was telling to me. I could tell there was a desire in him to see a fresh set of well wishes this morning and so I stayed up late with the box of crayons, making fresh signs, writing a new list of "11 things we love about you". He was overjoyed at the morning surprise (and even by the fact that I added new curly ribbon to dangle down like rain over his bottom bunk).
We gathered around the breakfast table (at the crack of dawn because it was a school day--he even reminded us to set our alarms the night before so we would wake up extra early) for our traditional sugar filled breakfast: the favorite special birthday cereal. He picked out Resess Puffs, which is also his dad's favorite so it worked out for at least two of the four of us.
We sang to him and he opened his family gifts, hugged us all, even his sister.
He went off to school and discovered his birthday greeting on the school marquee and then heard it announced over the morning speaker.
At 1:30pm he discovered his mom had left some special class treats (watermelon, grapes, and popcorn) with his teacher as a surprise.
At 2:00pm I picked him after school and we took a trip to Target to shop the aisles and discuss the many ways he could spend his $40 gift card from his Auntie L. We shopped for nothing else at Target. I think this alone was a bday gift he will cherish forever. After purchasing his picks he chose a snack at the Target snack shop, a total treat: A red Icee and a cinnamon pretzel.
We came home and played Stratego, his new favorite game.
Then we left for a family gathering at a pizza parlor. He wanted all thirteen of us to sit around one table. And he thanked and hugged each person as he opened their gifts.
We quietly sang him "happy birthday" as he told me he was a little concerned about everyone in the pizza parlor looking at him.
We ate his birthday dessert that he had chosen: cherry popovers from the bakery and vanilla ice cream. (He is not a cake lover.)
We came home and tucked him in bed, saw him fight back the tears over having to say goodbye to his special day. I told him that as he lay his head on his pillow he was to think about God and the angels celebrating the day he was born and even more so celebrating the person he was.
I remember eleven years ago sitting in the hospital, awake in the middle of the night, bawling my eyes out at the overwhelming hormonal rush of emotions flooding through my veins. My husband was asleep in the pull out cot, my newborn son was asleep in the little baby bed next to me, and I watched a lightening storm dance outside my hospital window. It was a night I will never forget. I had just delivered this tiny baby and I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. I was completely overwhelmed and the stormy night sky was the visual. And yet I knew I loved that tiny baby asleep next to me.
Eleven years have passed and I still see some of that tiny baby face in my pre-teen son. Those eyes have always been the purest of blue and wide set. He's always had those full lips. His body has always been long and lean, not an ounce of fat.
And now, at eleven, I can finally say his feet are bigger than mine. I knew this day would come.
Bub, if you ever read this one day, I hope you see how very special you always have been to me. I loved being in Target with you today. I loved setting up our Stratego board. I loved watching you hug your family to make sure they knew how thankful you were. I loved that you comforted your sister when she accidentally stepped on your brand new remote control car that she bought you for your birthday. I love that you love your family, and that you love your birthday.
Happy birthday Z.
If I lined up all the eleven year olds in the world I would choose you as my very favorite.
Love Mom.
xoxo
ps--here's a little documentary proof of your love for Ranch dressing. I'm thinkin' that if you are getting bottles of it for your birthday then you might need some "help" later on down the road. (Is there a twelve step program for this?)
Happy birthday Z.
If I lined up all the eleven year olds in the world I would choose you as my very favorite.
Love Mom.
xoxo
ps--here's a little documentary proof of your love for Ranch dressing. I'm thinkin' that if you are getting bottles of it for your birthday then you might need some "help" later on down the road. (Is there a twelve step program for this?)
5 comments:
That was beautiful. I hope that he does read this one day.
I totally teared up when reading this, Tracey. Not because I've been an emotional wreck this week, but because it's obvious how much you are in love with your boy.
It sounded like a wonderful day, one that he's sure to remember thanks to the thoughtfulness of his mom.
What a beautiful, lovely, full of happiness post. With some salty tears at the end.
so sweet tracey - loved all the ways you celebrated Z! Erin
beautiful post, beautiful pictures, beautiful ways to celebrate a beautiful boy's special day.
thanks for totally inspiring me. I may have to copy your 11-things-we-love-about-you-bed-decorating idea for my soon-to-be-11yo :-)!!!
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