Yes, a Family!
Tomorrow marks Silas’s six month birthday and I’m more excited about it than I thought I would be. We’ve even bought him gifts. I’m serving a half-a-cake. We’re inviting a few friends over and opening a bottle of champagne. I’m even planning to incorporate 1/2 birthdays into our regular celebratory traditions.
You may be reading this thinking I’m one of those really over-the-top materialistic holiday zombies. You may think I decorate the trees in our front yard with Easter eggs in April, webs and ghosts in October. Blow up a giant Santa snow globe in our front yard.
Not true. Not at all.
Okay, I must confess. I do force my immediate family to recognize me as the Christmas Chief. And, when my sisters and I get together at my parents house on Easter we warm-up for an Olympic-style egg hunt complete with plastic eggs hidden in balloons weighted to the bottom of our pond that you must access by canoe.
So, maybe I’m a little bedeviled by holidays. But, and I’m being honest here, we did not buy Silas any Christmas gifts. Well, not many. Seriously. We just got him leg warmers and books.
But, six months! It’s quite an achievement!
We made it. We’re breathing. We’re healthy. We’re not divorced.
I’m not above admitting that we have had trouble redefining our marriage. In fact, we’ve had a hell of time. I now have begun to understand what people mean when they say that marriage is work. That its tough. That there are mornings (or nights, or afternoons) when you’ll wake up and wonder “why the hell did I marry so-and-so?” You might even really call them so-and-so. I hate it, but its true. True, true, true.
Still, here we are six months later. WE are. Together. We’ve made this baby and he is beautiful. So beautiful I can’t look at him sometimes. This baby who is our DNA– mingled and mixed and whole. This baby who smiles when he sees us. Knows us as mom and dad. Whoa.
Yesterday, it struck me. It took me six months but it finally struck me. After shopping for a big boy car seat and a few 1/2 birthday treats, we headed over to the Arboretum. I carried Silas in the Baby Bjorn and Paul walked with his arm around my shoulder. We stopped to let Silas touch leaves and trees. We took him out of the Bjorn to hold him over the creek– the creek he couldn’t stop marveling at– and let him run his fingers through the cold, mountain water. We talked and laughed and smiled in the sun.
As we walked back to the car I finally felt it. I realized that the people passing us were smiling because they saw us as a family. A young, beautiful, blessed, happy family.
My God! We are in love.
I remembered that yesterday. It may have taken six months. But, I remembered. We are in love– Paul, Silas, and I– and we are a family.
Before I was a mother, six months seemed like a considerable amount of time. Now, and let me be cliche here, it seems like a blink of an eye. In another six months our baby will most likely be walking and talking. Most likely won’t be a baby anymore.
But, our family will still be a family. Young, beautiful, blessed, and happy.
What a wonderful thing to be.
March 29th, 2008 at 11:44 pm
I just want to point out that if you really don’t care about getting the most eggs and winning the egg hunt, you COULD access those eggs by canoe, but… it is not necessary by any means. It could be done on foot.
I think the administrator should retract this statement… or elaborate a bit.
Love you, big sis
April 4th, 2008 at 1:42 am
Basically, what I think you are saying is: if you see someone desperately trying to grab an egg-filled balloon from their canoe and you know that they are really frustrated by their efforts, however failing, that you will cheat, by any means possible, to attain glory regardless of the emotional trauma that you may impact on others…
Is that right?
Kick him in the balls!!!