Birthdays

My little man turned one year old one week ago today. Hard to believe it's been a full year since I went into labor, struggled for 32 hours and then suddenly had this teeny tiny person in my arms that until that moment, was an unknown entity, a little force of energy, balled up inside me. Now he smiles, hugs, kisses, laughs and, on my birthday, this past Tuesday, walks. What a great birthday gift. Somehow he knows. On Father's Day he said "Dada" and on my birthday he takes his first steps. This morning he was in his high chair and I was in the kitchen getting him something for his breakfast, when he pointed at me and said "Mama". It's not the first time he said it but it still takes me by surprise and melts my heart each time I hear it.

My own birthday was eclipsed a little by my son's but that's OK. We gathered over the weekend and had some drinks and went to see Fuerzabruta. On my actual birthday I watched the Red Sox lose to Cleveland. The Red Sox hate my birthday. It's the one curse of an October birthday - baseball postseason. If you care about baseball and your team makes the playoffs, you risk having your birthday blown if they lose their game that day. I'm still holding out hope that they recover but now they have to win 3 in a row.

So, another year of birthdays coming to a close. Only a few more left for the year before the cycle begins again in January.