This kid was born.
Today is D’s twentieth birthday. It was alarming when I realized last night as I was wide awake at midnight–two hours after I had gone to bed–that I can no longer say I have two teenaged sons. It’s a bizarre feeling.
Of course, you can’t slow time down and this is just the thing that tends to happen.
Today is a little bittersweet for us since D is in New Mexico, miles and miles away from here. In fact, in many ways it doesn’t seem like his birthday at all because I’m not making a cake (that would be weird–and mean!) and naturally there are no plans to go out to dinner as a family for the occasion like we always do (we wouldn’t go without him!). Gifts were given to him before he left town, and we sent him a small package to open this week but…yeah, not the same.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in a funk today. Outside of being a little crabby because I have to do a long day today on four and a half hours of sleep, any bittersweet feelings about D’s first birthday away from home are balanced out by my knowing that he is doing exactly what he wants to do. I don’t think he’s ever sounded so consistently happy as he has each and every time he calls to check in, talking about the young Boy Scouts he’s shepherding into the back country, the hummingbirds that sat on his finger, the friends he’s making. A Happy Birthday indeed.