We’re in the thick of it, people. Birthday season. The month of December is chock full of friends and family member’s birthdays, including mine and Rob’s. We went out last Friday to celebrate with friends at a karaoke bar where there was supposed to be an Elvis impersonator, but he called in sick. We had a blast anyway, karaoke-ing without him. That night while Rob and I were lying in bed I told him that now I’ve had a baby I have a new appreciation for birthdays.
I’ve always been a birthday whore. It’s my day. It’s my one and only day of the year that’s all about me and I get presents and people pay attention to me and tell me nice things and there’s cake and whatever I want for dinner. But now suddenly it’s not all about me. All I can think about is my mom and her bringing me into this world.
Yup, it’s one of those posts.
I am such a damn sap. Whatever.
Now that I’ve brought a whole human person boy into this world I think about things differently. I keep thinking about my own mom and what she went through, and how she must feel watching me grow up and do all these grown up things, like have my very own baby, and I can’t help but think about how I’m going to be doing the very same thing with my Max.
I don’t know what exactly I’m trying say here. All I know is I’m all kinds of emotional over my birthday this year.
So to my mom; thank you for being my mom. I love you and I can’t put into words how much I appreciate everything you do and have done for me.