so my baby turned 7. we were not going to have a friend party this year. i am pretty sure the first ten years of motherhood elaborate party planning for each birthday burned this gal out.
one year, when my first son was turning 5 i dried out chicken bones to bury in the park playground so the 5 year olds could do an authentic dinosaur dig and find real bones...that was also the year i almost took that 5 year old home from his own party due to the moody he was throwing.  so it was gathering for his 7th birthday.  as it drew closer i knew my social of social kids would have to have friends to celebrate. "please year i will do just a family party." so last minute planning produced a super fun party of all boys and one girl. it was not elaborate and he loved it.
as i lay with him in bed discussing all the great things about the day and the whole week i think back to the first night i had with him.  he was an 8 pound baby but had trouble breathing so they had him in the nicu the whole night.  i stayed with him whispering how loved he was. the heat lamps made him so pink and he looked like a beast compared to many of the preemie babies that were in there with him. i recall so vividly the strength of the love i felt for him; it was unbelievable. i stroked his soft skin and blond hair all night, trying to memorize every centimeter of his new body: his curved spine, heart shaped top lip, big belly. while i watched him sleep the other night with his long, lean, boy body it feels like i am being split asunder.  i am not sure what that means in the scriptures, but if i could place a feeling on it, it is this:  having my children grow up and out of the selves i loved so madly. of course it is tempered by the continuing love of their new selves...but come on, this 2 year old kid was the penultimate.
his 7 year old self is too. geez, it is such a gift to be his mom. he is the (one of the 4) coolest thing i have done. for sure.


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