When the Oldest Has a Birthday

9 years old

My first baby turns 9 today and I’m having a hard time with it. Now over the past few years I have come to realize that when he has a birthday I find it so much harder. I’m not sure if it’s be cause he is the first…okay, yeah it is. I admit it. He was the first to turn 2, 4, 6. The first to go to kindergarten. By the time the rest turned 2 or 4 it’s more like been there, done that. I know it’s not fair. Each of them are just as special and I get all sappy for each of their birthdays, but I’m having a tough time with this one. The LAST birthday before double-digits.

I read a quote this week in regards to parenthood. It said something along the lines of the days are long and the years are short. It completely resonated with me.  It’s so true. Motherhood itself. The DAYS are long. You count the hours till bedtime where you can finally sit and relax. Then you blink. The YEAR has gone by in a flash. Gone. I sit here now at the computer going through old photos. Recalling the times I thought, “when will this phase end!?” Now I am looking back thinking how much I miss those phases…even the not so great ones. I want to watch Nemo for the billionith time! Please!

little Nemo

I miss the missing front tooth. I miss the tiny little voice. I miss having to read seven board books before bed. I miss bubble baths. I miss the world revolving around Whale. I miss singing along to Little Einsteins. I miss silly conversations about ice cream.


Happy NINTH Birthday to my adventurous, fun, creative, and artistic boy. And thank you for being the first to make me a Mommy. It’s been my greatest journey.

one years old



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