He came out purple and smushed and a little bit not breathing. From that eventual first breath though I loved him and he was my baby. I really mean it... like baby doll baby, pushed around in my play stroller that his chunky thighs almost broke. I loved becoming a big sister. By four years old I had changed his poopy diaper. Then I cried because I knew I couldn't marry him but wanted to because I never wanted to NOT be with him.
Life got rougher and our relationship got rockier because honestly likes someone who tears down your dresser and destroys your room all in an attempt to steal your hidden candy. I didn't at least. Flash forward to today though and he is sixteen. Now every year that he grows older we seem to grow closer.
What the hell! My baby is taller than me, funnier than me, and he will be getting his permit and DRIVING because he is sixteen!!! I am not okay.
Today was his birthday and I think birthdays are special because the person who was born is special. He does not agree that they matter or are special and for days his response to me asking what he wants he said nothing and to do nothing.
Okay, I had to accept that.
This morning while he wore my sunglasses at Starbucks, sipping an iced macchiato, chewing the straw remarking about turtles, and talking about politics he told me they don't matter. He was going to dinner with his girlfriend which is what he wanted. He wanted the day to be regular and he didn't want to have expectations.
I was sad that this is how he felt but he's allowed to so I had to let him. I was grateful for him being willing to hang with me at all.
The hours had gone by and by 6:20pm I was cleaning: tired, frustrated that I still had to do this annoying weekend job, listening to Brene Brown's "Rising Strong". I paused to open a snap chat from him. To paraphrase his girlfriend was throwing up, our mom left for somewhere, and he felt bad for being grumpy about our morning date. I think he was crying and my heart broke so I called him.
I listened to him vent about how if you have no expectations then you aren't disappointed and how he still feels guilty etcetera. What I really heard was his sadness, the product of our parents' parenting, and the impact of our childhood grinding down.
As I cleaned the toilet bowl out, that clean scent clung to my nostrils and wrung out a sponge I thought about how I could push off my friend who needed me tonight and offered to take him to dinner. He accepted and I got what I wanted all along, birthday dinner with him, but now it's a bit sad.
I take him to dinner and pour my heart out onto a lined piece of paper. I write it partially hidden under the table as he does math homework across from me. This is to go with the money I told him I was giving so we have an excuse to hang as we shop for something he wants. He cursed as he said, "the answer is all real numbers".
I love this incredible young man. I worry about him. I can't wait to adventure with him. I love him but I didn't even take the time to get a stupid card. I think he doesn't care though... he's not the extra type like me, plus "his birthday is nothing" right?
It's hard to listen and do what someone wants... but today I tried hard to. I think because I did he reached out to me when he needed a show of love. I did end up taking him out and I did what I could: love him.
Moral: work to love the people you love in the way they want and need. It sucks sometimes but today it paid off. I let him be him then, with fewer words, was asked for help. I saw and felt the vulnerable. That, at least says Brene Brown, is what really matters.
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