Last night I tucked you into bed, brushing the hair from your forehead, and whispered the exciting news that when you woke up, you would be three years old. Panic seized me and for a moment I was tempted to keep you up all night just to stall the inevitable. But it is inevitable, isn't it?
Happy birthday, my sweet baby. I wish so much for you, but only because you never cease to deserve it.
Monday, July 7, 2008
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4 comments:
This is the sweetest post ever. Ever, ever.
I CANNOT believe three years have passed since you first had that "false labor" at your shower, Diana. Happy Birthday M, we love you!
I have to ask, are birthdays always this depressing from now on? As his Dad, I am happy for M, but at the same time sad. He said today "I'm 3 now, I can play by myself." Such mixed emotions watching our "little" boy grow up.
B
Oh, birthdays are happy. For the birthday boy/girl. It's payback for all of our birthdays where we were oblivious to our parents' turbulant emotions. Karma sucks.
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