But I realized after school today that I'm having an anniversary of sorts, and it seemed right to honor it. At first, I thought I might be too tired, but then my youngest son asked me a question.
"Mom, is it almost my birthday?"
For years birthdays were a terribly big deal to me, and rest assured I insist that my own should be made one. However, as life marches forth I do find that the piles of gifts are smaller and the parties are more dreaded. Birthdays can be sad.
But this face was decidedly not so.
Inspired, I clicked through a few pages on Facebook and came across a photo representing where I stood six years ago. Exhausted, busy, and very, very heavy--and I only had a small amount of hours left to go.
I have told anyone willing to hear how hard my life is. (Sorry not sorry--you must've looked vulnerable and/or receptive.) But when I looked back at this photo of myself, something clicked into place for me.
In six years, what an enormous lot has changed.
I have suffered more love lost in these years than in my entire life put together. My grandmother, my grandfather, my beautiful cousin. I've traveled and seen things and even fought for things I never thought I'd be brave enough to do. Italy and New York and publishers. New Orleans as many times in one year as we could afford. Disney World. I was even, for one bright moment, an actress.
I asked my older sons if they could think of any significant change our youngest has brought. "We MOVED HOUSES!" they cried. "We built an entire house!"
"We lived with GRANDMA." (This from Joey, with some chagrin.)
"We're in THEATRE!" shouted Noah. "We're ACTORS!"
My goodness. Yes.
Somehow, the advent of a small person turns a whole family upside-down. Diapers and night-feedings, milestones galore--never an easy road, but so much harder when you're starting new after believing it was over. I drove my son and his date to a high school homecoming dance on Saturday night, then came home to tuck in my kindergartener. To say things are spread thin is an understatement.
But this little person...does he trail pixie dust? Because whatever is going on, and no matter how tired I am, this person is always smiling. His eyes are lit, his voice is going (at full volume, never-ending, God help me). He's something, my youngest. Anyone who knows him will laugh to hear me say, "He's a character." Yes, indeed. A different one every five minutes, with the largest personal collection of costumes I've ever seen--on top of his own YouTube channel and a TikTok account with more followers than a kindergartener should have.
I can say my life is harder because of my children, and not be ungrateful. It is harder. But I will also say without a doubt in my heart that none of the things I cherish now would exist without these three people.
And certainly, I cannot imagine how I could have survived the last six years without true magic...my bit of pixie dust. Maximilian, you burst into our lives unexpectedly. You were a bomb that blew us to magic bits, and a catalyst that pushed us forward into a brand new adventure we never knew was coming.
Maximilian...Greatness.
His birthday surprise: a tree of costume hats, wig stands, and twinkle lights. Because I know how to handle greatness when I see it.
