So today was my little boy’s birthday party. He turned 2 on me too fast. I always stress so badly when we have these parties. Well, I stress over everything if the truth be told. My great-grandma used to send me cards signed with “I’m sitting up here worrying about you!” Guess I got it honest. Anyways, I want everything to be perfect: the house, the cake, the decorations, the presents, the whole nine yards!
I’ve literally been working 2 days straight to make sure the house looks like something out of “Southern Living“. While everyone told me repeatedly how beautiful it looked, I still wonder: “Did I get the windows clean enough?” “Did I make sure the hand towels are out on the counter?” I think it is just in me to worry; fretting over every little meticulous detail. I will probably never be happy with the way something looks, smells, tastes, etc.
I went to pick up his cake from the store and open the box to inspect it. I get all teary-eyed at the “Happy Birthday Deacon!” on top. My little baby is 2, and I do the things my Mom used to do: “At exactly this time X years ago, I was or you were…” I think about seeing his fat little cheeks for the first time and how amazing their little feet and hands look. How could I have made anything so perfect and so beautiful?
With the exception of my grandmother showing up an hour early, things went well. The kids played and had fun, the families chatted and laughed, food was eaten, presents opened. I think Deacon enjoyed it, even if it was nothing more than a few other playmates for the day, and everyone doting on the “birthday boy.” I ran around playing hostess, making sure the world was well, and I think maybe it was.
I finally go to chill out after everyone leaves and wrapping paper is thrown away, only to see my little angel fast asleep on his Dad’s lap, toys still clutched in his chubby little hands. I look at that sweet face and just have to pat myself on the back. No, maybe the house isn’t perfect, maybe I didn’t make enough dip, but you know what, I made a great little guy and that is good enough for me.
Well done, Katie.