Why we have birthdays

On our way back from Walmart this evening, Daniel was asking me why we were having his party on his actual birthday instead of the weekend. I was explaining that since we live further from his grandparents and his friends are the ones coming to the party, it was ok to have it during the week. He interrupted me several times to find out if he was still going to get presents if the grandparents weren't there. I said "Yes, but....

the reason we have birthday parties isn't to get presents. We have a party every year to celebrate the day you became our son. We get to have a good time and be happy that you were born, into our family, and that we have been together for another year."

His eyes started to tear up and I thought "Good grief, here we go. Another tantrum."

Instead, he said, "That is so sweet. I always appreciate that they are (his guests) just there. I love you."

Hear that? It's my cold heart melting. Literally---total puddle.

As we rounded the corner, we passed the local ice cream parlor. There was a father outside with two girls (infant and a little younger than Daniel). He carried his beautiful baby in one arm and cradled the back of his older daughters head in his hand as he steered her gently to the car. GULP, SOB, HICCUP.

As caught up in the day to day grind and irritation of raising my kids as I can be, I am officially taking the next few minutes to remember how desperately each of them was wanted. How happily all of them were welcomed into the world and my heart. No video ever captured the secret moments alone with them, when they were fresh and new, that I smelled their baby breath, their sweet necks. But I don't need a visual reminder of how just their little sighs made my heart swell with more love than I ever thought I was capable of. And to think that this endless love could multiply three times over is remarkable.

Below is my birthday boy. Happy Birthday Daniel!