Birthday Blues?

Birthdays are supposed to be fun! Super loud parties with tons of balloons and kids hyped up on way too much sugar - trashing everything in their wake! Right?? Yes, but as a parent it hits much more differently than I thought it would.

No one prepared me for how I would feel when my kiddos had birthdays. It’s almost an 'empty' feeling, and while I can definitely be in my feels more than what is considered “societally acceptable” sometimes, I surely didn’t expect to feel so freaking SAD when my children had birthdays! PJ and T both just had birthdays recently, and man, I was wrecked all day. T is still a toddler (turd-ler - be so for real.) therefore, he’s still a baby. He’s still got the chunky baby face, and this lanky little body he still doesn’t know what to do with, and eyes that are for sure 3x too big for his precious little face. PJ is in this weird stage where he is not a toddler but also not school-aged. He is still so small, and gives the best snuggles, and cries at the slightest inconvenience. But he also has the wit and the attitude to destroy anyone who dares disagree with him. PJ is my baby too, and always will be. They both will! Even though PJ's favorite thing to say when I say that to him is "I AM NOT A BABY I AM A BOY" or my new favorite "NO YOU ARE A BABY." (Though that MOUTH would make you wonder. “Is that actually a 3 foot tall teenager?” Gotta work on that.)

Anyway. I guess this is going to happen every year. The kids will keep getting older (but not me, friends. Nope, no siree.) and I’ll just keep feeling this profound sadness every year! (Dang that's depressing.) I will say the sadness - it's mixed with this immense pride. I’m so proud of how much these sweetturds are learning! Their little sponge brains are learning so much every single day. And of course when a little bit of "me" spews from their mouths, I am both proud and highly embarrassed. (PJ the other day goes "Holy shi-ooooooooot. I bit the inside of my cheek SO HARD to keep from laughing. My husband didn't even say a word. He just looked at me.... the look of shame.) (Keyboard warriors I swear I reel it in around the kids.... kids learn words from more than just their parents, you know! Go stub your toe real hard on something, or smash your finger in a door and let me know what comes out of your mouth.)

Anyway, all this to say… birthdays hit different when you’re a parent. It’s not just cake and candles and lazily wrapping gifts in bags (judge me. I dare you. It's easy and effective and I even add paper to make them look festive) It’s a weird little gut-punch reminder that time is moving. That our babies are growing—fast. And that no matter how much you want to freeze time and bottle up their squeaky voices and chubby cheeks and weird little toddler dance moves - you can’t.

And yeah, it’s kind of heartbreaking.

But also? It’s beautiful. Because every year I get to know these tiny humans a little more. I get to see who they’re becoming—and spoiler alert—they’re hilarious. They're kind, wild, stubborn, curious, loud, chaotic little miracles. I must be doing something right. (Right???)

So here’s to the birthdays. To the joy, the mess, the sugar highs, and yes—even the tears (mine, not theirs). May I never stop feeling birthdays this much, and letting a few tears roll down my cheeks while I watch them struggle to blow out candles with their tiny, ineffective little breaths.

xoxo

Madi