This is my eighth birthday blog post to you. I started this blog a little while after your first birthday (I think?) and each year I’ve written you a birthday post.
As much as I celebrate each year with you, wonder where on earth the time has gone, and marvel at what a great grownup little dude you are, it’s a little bittersweet too, if I’m being honest. It’s a reminder that the last nine years of my incredible path of motherhood with you are behind us, and while I’m a believer that there are likely more happy experiences and moments ahead of us, I still get a bit choked up thinking of the all the “remember whens”.
I’ve written before that as our kids get older, our relationships shift, and year by year your detach from our grasp as you become more and more independent. It’s a gift to be able to keep growing, but it’s a scary one for me. Birthdays are a stark reminder of the thens, the nows and the future, while most other days I’m a here and now kinda gal.
The benefit of you being nine is that we can sit together on your birthday watching a movie and chuckling at the absurdities of Rowan Atkinson in Johnny English Strikes Again (confession though, and I’m not sure you noticed, but I read magazines on my iPad for most of the movie, and napped a bit too, as Rowan Atkinson’s character makes me want to dip my head in a huge tub of popcorn and not come out until the credits start rolling in).
Also, at nine, you’re happy to forego a party and opt for an experience instead. This year, we went to Cape Town two weeks before your birthday instead of having a party, and it was something you were so content with, and so sure of.
At nine, you can watch me typing this on your birthday, and try and sneak a peak at what I’m doing. “I’m just looking at the pictures”, you tell me while trying to keep a straight, unable to tell a good fib at this age. (PS: you know all about this blog, and while you can access it, I’ve recommended you wait a bit longer so that you can understand everything).
At nine, it’s not unacceptable to say “I love you” to me, nor to hug me in front of your friends as you leave for your overnight school camp.
At nine, you’re simply awesome.
Happy happy birthday Max – may number nine be full of health, happiness, fun, great sushi, good books, Nerf action and growth, and may you experience the same warmth, humour and compassion as you show the world.
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