It is finally here – Pumpkin’s birthday week! I can hardly believe it. A caveat before you read any further - as the title suggest, I’m feeling a little Cat Stevens this morning (pre-Yusuf Islam and without the facial hair), so bear with me.
It all started yesterday when I was wrapping her birthday presents and I started to get a little weepy. When you’re expecting your first child and particularly as you start lugging your 7 pound newborn around clumsily in a 50-pound baby carrier with the lost and frazzled look of a first time mom, everyone from your own parents to the homeless woman in the parking lot watching you bang the head of your baby’s car seat into every parked car and shopping cart within a 20-foot radius, warn you to enjoy “it” because “it” goes by so fast.
After the seemingly never-ending 40 weeks of pregnancy and countless sleepless nights frantically reading What to Expect and wondering when your bundle of joy will smile, sit, roll, crawl, eat, talk, or walk, it’s hard to believe that there is anything fast about this parenting process. Yet, here we are at the one-year mark and I find myself asking “where did the time go.” I think the sign in my pediatrician’s office sums it up best – “the days are long, but the years are fast.” This is so true, and so bittersweet.
This morning marked an important day in American history, as it was announced that Osama Bin Laden was killed by US troops. I learned the news at about 1:00 this morning as we were trying to figure out for the 361st time in her life why Pumpkin had woken up screaming in the middle of the night. As Aaron is lulling her back to sleep, I start thinking about her beautiful innocence. When she woke up for school this morning, I started to talk to her about this momentous day in history and how she will never, ever have to fear the evil that was Osama Bin Laden. Of course, she had no idea what I was talking about (although as shown in the photo, she is being raised to care about current events), nor did the news of Osama’s death do anything to impact her overwhelming desire for formula and toys, but it got me thinking about the things I want to protect her from as she enters her toddler years and beyond.
Here are a few things that I hope my baby never has to know:
Evil. I would be overjoyed if the baddest guys she ever heard of was Captain Hook and his bumbling pirates on Disney Junior. While I know I cannot protect her from knowing there are bad guys out there in the world (and, in all honesty do not want her to be naïve), I certainly hope that she knows evil only as the opposite of goodness and light and that she also knows without doubt that evil will never win because it was already defeated on the cross.
I would also love to protect her from pain. I would love it if an earache or a budding toothy is the most excruciating thing she ever faces. Unfortunately, I am sure she will endure other pain – be it broken bones or broken hearts – but the lesson I hope she also learns is that without that pain, we could not fully appreciate life’s joys.
I would also be thrilled if her saddest loss was a paci rolling into the netherworlds under her crib, seemingly lost forever (or at least until mommy or daddy’s long arms can reach it). I know, however, that one day she will lose someone she loves – I know the pain of that all too well and would not wish that on her for one second. I can only pray that she will rest comforted in God’s promise that we will all be together again one day in his glorious kingdom.
And finally, I hope that when she is 17 and slams her bedroom door in my face and screams “I hate you,” and as I am secretly cursing her right back under my breath, I hope that she will always know that she is my greatest joy and a gift that I am constantly reminded that I am unworthy of, yet eternally grateful for. She is the sunshine of my life and the reason for my every breath.
I will do everything in my power to protect her from all of the bad in the world – from boogie men to spiders and everything in between – but I know that she will be hurt. So, while I cannot promise to stop her pain and while I am under no illusion that the all-healing power of my hugs that exists today will not one day wane, I can promise that those hugs will always be available to hold her through any of life’s trials. I also know that my Pumpkin will be raised to know that she is loved and that she is strong. She will know that she can overcome anything life throws her way, that she will never be alone, and that in even her darkest moments there will always be love.
My wish for her as we blow out her candle this weekend is that she truly live every moment of her life and never let go of her joy for living (even if rocking chairs lose some of their excitement - see video posted above). Happy birthday Pum-Pum, mama and daddy love you!
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