Diaries Magazine


By Owlandtwine
Mom.  Mom!
Mom, are you going to cry?
We gathered with him and eleven of his class pals to celebrate his seventh birthday.  There was pizza and a requested cookie cake that said Happy Birthday Theo in blue buttercream.  There was bowling and a game of laser tag and arcade games with tickets pouring out of machines.  There were ticket counter prizes.  There was me after the party was all said and done and all of the children were back in the hands of their parents, and I said absolutely never again.  It was wonderful and Theo loved it.  But I knew before this party even started that birthdays, even though my most favorite celebrations, will be done differently from now on.
You know, for Theo it was all about the party and friends and Legos.  But for the last three days I have worn my heart on my sleeve.  It started this past Friday morning while he was chewing his breakfast and then started making funny sounds to get my attention.  I instantly knew that his tooth, hanging by a root for days, had finally come out.  I walked over to him and had him spit his food onto a little plate.  My motherhood flare in full force as I combed through the warm, gooey mass of blueberry waffle to find the pearly little tooth, no more root.  And while I was searching for the tooth, I looked up at him and there it was - my first born whose once toothless, gummy smile I never in my loveliest dreams could've imagined then on the cusp of seven years old and missing his top front teeth.  I must've froze because for a moment, I cannot remember.  And then I heard him saying, Mom.  Mom!  Mom, are you going to cry?
I did. 
Someone can punch me for saying this, but time really does go by so fast.  I am trying this morning to eat leftover birthday cake that I made for Theo and drink my latte while listening to Alabama Shakes, but my heart is indeed on my sleeve and all of my love is lodged right in the center of my throat.  Sometimes I just wish I could hit pause because these ages right now - 4 1/2 and 7 are about the most awesome, magical time ever.  I feel like I did when my boys were born.  Nothing in the world felt better to me than holding them, nursing them, resting my nose in their soft hair.  Even rocking in the night, five hundred million years tired.  I never wanted it to end.  And I guess that's what it is right now.  I just want to be here, right here, for a good long while.

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