Turning 7

Bird’s birthday is today. He’s seven. Technically speaking, at the time I am writing this, he was not yet born seven years ago today. He just made August 29 by 28 minutes. After the initial cuddling and cooing over our baby boy, I sent Mac Daddy out for a vanilla milkshake and cheeseburger. For me, not the baby. He came back with shakes for all the nurses too. He’s sweet like that. And I sure hope that quality rubs off on our sons. My labor and delivery were so painfully easy that I won’t go into detail here. I’m afraid I’d get hate mail if you really knew how magically smooth it was for me. Let’s just say that bunion surgery was worse than childbirth and leave it at that.

Bird is my son who is most like me, for better or for worse. It should be stated that he has a certain charm and intoxicating good looks to bewitch people and in turn, get away with much tomfoolery. He is a smart cookie with a thought process mature beyond his years. He has a sense of mischief that makes me wince. I’d like to capture his giggle and bottle it as a reminder of his boyhood days. He’ll be whooping up a deep bellow before I know it. Bird also has one dimple that makes strangers swoon. It’s no exaggeration to tell you that I never go out with him at my side without someone stop me to tell me how cute he is. Mac Daddy and I should be making money off that face. So far I’m sounding quite conceited, considering I just told you how we are so alike and all.

What I mean, though Bird does favor me in the genes department, is that he and I share a temperament. We are downright volatile when we are angry, giddy when we are full of cheer, and intolerable when we are frustrated. This is where it comes in handy to be irresistible. I see Bird follow in my emotional footsteps and I want to grab the tail of his shirt to stop him. I want to tell him not to harp on perfection, to learn how to easily forgive, and to turn the glass upside down if he is to see it half full. Bird feels life passionately, whether he’s feeling playful or petulant. Bird is not a child who gets out of the black and whites rooms and past the bouncer into the grey area. He’s a funny child who spends his time playing with words, planning pranks, begging for sushi, or mastering tricks on his skateboard that tip me into cardiac arrest territory.

My baby Bird, while not always an easygoing child, is indeed a special one. He lifts my heart, and I feel a palatable protection for him. He is my Mini-Me, my kindred spirit. He feels the weight of the world as I do and sees the funny stuff with joke glasses on.

My Bird is 7 today. Happy Birthday to my first baby, my baby Bird. Mommy loves you to the moon and back.

And just because this is the stuff that floats Bird’s proverbial boat, I’m throwing in some tidbits about the number 7:

1. There are seven wonders of the ancient world.
2. There are seven continents and seven seas in the world.
3. There are seven basic musical notes. (Now to win brownie points with my parents, in Indian music the notes are sa, re, ga,‘ma, pa, dha, and ni.)
4. Seven has the highest probability of occurring as a sum when rolling dice.
5. There are seven stars in the Big Dipper constellation.
6. Virtues and Vices…seven of each.
7. Most lady bugs have seven spots.

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