Today is Carter’s third birthday. He has been talking about it for months, and it’s finally here. (Although he still said this morning, “My birthday’s coming!”, not quite understanding that it’s actually today.) This is a big one. It’s the first birthday he’s actually been anticipating and will be celebrating. The past two have really been more about us and our celebration of his life, but this year he gets to take part. He gets to begin to understand that we are celebrating his life and our love for him. Last night felt like Christmas Eve for me, secretly wrapping presents and eagerly anticipating the morning.
This morning I had put some presents of the table, and when Carter saw them, he said with amazement, “Presents?”, as if he wasn’t quite sure if they were for him or whether he could touch them. By 6:30am, he had unwrapped two books, a shape shorter, three race cars, and a race track. Not bad considering the sun hadn’t even come up yet.
As a child, you don’t recognize that celebrating your birthday is as exciting for the parents as it is for you. Now as a mother I realize that this special day is also about celebrating the beginning of our family. The day I became a mother and Mark and I became parents. It’s as much a “mother’s day” as it is Carter’s birthday. I catch myself smiling today for no reason other than the joy of this special day. Happy Birthday, Carter.
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