Mark had to run to the grocery store to get lunch for us. Before he left he grabbed Roscoe and strapped him into the carseat. What a guy, huh?! Happy birthday to me!!!
That's a simple thing, really, but this is the first time since Roscoe was born that I've been alone in our house. And it's weeeeeird. And so niiiiice. I turned into a whirlwind of a tidying monster and then realized that this is the prime opportunity for me to blog, because I have a few things to say.
As most of you have noticed (thank you for the wishes, by the way), today is my birthday. It's also father's day, and I remember (the few times this happened) as a child hating it when I had to share my birthday with my dad. Well what do you expect from the baby girl of the family? I was a brat. But now my outlook is a little different (have I matured a little?) and I'm honored to be able to set this day aside not only as a birthday celebration, but also as a celebration of my father. The man who didn't even have to tell me what kind of guy to look for, because he was the picture perfect example of a husband, a father.....the perfect example of a man. My dad is hardworking, loving, loyal, faithful, genuine, gentle (but oooooo boy, don't you mess with his family or you'll regret it)... I don't have the words to express the emotions I feel about my dad. I will always, always be a daddy's girl, and I can't wait to get my hug from him tonight. I love you daddy!
On a slightly different note, for my mom:
June 19, 1986, 25 years ago, my mother was headed to the hospital to be induced. She was 17 days late from the due date the doctors had given her for her 3rd baby to be born. Not to mention the fact that one of her friends who had the same due date delivered early. Poor mom, I can only imagine how eager she was to have her arms around this little baby.... boy or girl? Only God knew at that time. I remember mom saying that she and dad went to Bojangles that morning on the way to the hospital and mom couldn't eat anything, so she had to sit there and watch dad eat his yummy cajun chicken biscuit. I'm sure THAT was an awkward meal... You got a pregnant woman way overdue, and she has to sit and watch her husband eat? I might have glared across the table had that been me.....
A few months ago Mark and I were at a birthday party for a friend and one of the girls there mentioned that birthdays should be more about the mother than the celebratee (is that a word?) and I couldn't agree more. Especially now that I've had Roscoe, it's easy to see how I will spend each of his birthdays reminiscing about his birth, and the years that have flown by. It's the mother that carries and births the baby. So the birthdays of her children are so special. It's a celebration of hard work and of the day she finally got to meet and wrap her arms around the one she carried for so many months.
So happy birthday, mom. Or, happy birthday to me to you. However that works... I love you and cherish all the memories we have together, even the not-so-great ones that have brought us to where we are today. I believe it's the hard times that God has used to strengthen our bond, and I consider you just as precious a friend as I did when I was growing up. I love you!
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