I decided this year that I’m not going to acknowledge my children’s birthdays in writing. Of course they’ll get their birthday cakes, presents and both the English and Venezuelan version of Happy Birthday. I just don’t want to go into detail about what these birthdays mean.
If I did, I’d have to talk about how my daughter is now closer to 18 than she is to a much more simpler time. Like let’s say being a toddler.
I’d have to discuss my son turning 5 and has now spent the majority of his life living in Venezuela. That might explain why he speaks so much Spanish.
Talking about it would mean acknowledging that I can no longer pick my daughter up, put her above my head and twirl her around while she has fits of giggles (I have about 2 months left of doing that with my son).
Nope, I’m going to avoid these topics altogether. I’ll simply enjoy these other little moments that I still have with them…
You know the all-encompassing manual they give to parents, well it fails to mention that time goes by at warp speed sometimes. Not when you’re up 3 times a night for feedings and diaper changes, but when you get settled into a phase where they’re becoming independent, but still thing you hung the moon. I guess it’s all sort of cyclical. Right when you least expect it, you wake up and they’re 3 years older from the last time you checked.
I guess the only thing that I can do is accept that certain chapters have closed in raising my kids and look forward to the new ones *sigh*