Birthday Eve - My youngest is turning five
It’s my baby boy’s Birthday Eve. In our house, that means the buzz of a family tradition we’ve created, where the birthday child goes to bed early the night before and reads, while the rest of us decorate the house.
We wrap streamers around balustrades, blow balloons and hang a “Happy Birthday” banner. Now that we have a cat, he joins in and tries to pull down the streamers faster than we can get them up. Usually, I start work on the birthday cake and wrap the birthday gifts if I haven’t got around to it yet.
The secret peeks as we open the door to come in and say goodnight to the birthday child once it’s all ready to go for the next morning are totally predictable, and part of the fun that makes the whole event the valued tradition that it’s become.
Yet while I said it’s my ‘baby boy’s’ birthday tomorrow, he’s not really a baby anymore. My youngest child is now somehow turning five. He’ll be starting school next year and I’ll be heading to my last ever kinder Christmas concert next week.
I’ve been feeling such a mix of emotions. I’m proud of the close family bonds we’ve created in these early formative years, relieved to have made it through the baby, toddler and kinder years with a marriage and business still in tact, and sad that the super cute, innocent, snuggly and ‘you’re amazing at everything’ faze will very soon come to an end. All of this is tinged with a big dose of motherly guilty that worries I haven’t done enough with this youngest child of three and soaked in each moment more.
He’s a beautiful, funny, strong-willed, enthusiastic, kind, observant, vehicle-loving boy. He’s sensitive, has the best giggle going around, and is genuinely delighted to see me every single time I pick him up from kinder or Kids Church. I have no doubt that his blond hair, blue eyes, olive skin and love of surf fashion will continue to charm the socks off just about anyone.
As we celebrate our five-year-old tomorrow, I’m going to cherish the moments of joy, wonder and surprise throughout the day, not take for granted the big hug I know I’ll get in the morning, expect the inevitable ‘end of birthday meltdown’ and just roll with it, and go to sleep tonight with a deep sense of gratitude and contentment that I have been able to raise three children.