Tag Archives: birthday

Happy (Gulp) 17th Birthday to My Son


The year was 1999.

Lance Armstrong won his first Tour de France title.

The euro was established as the standardized currency unit across the nations of Europe. (Nearly two decades later, Great Britain still embraces the pound. As well as tepid beer. But that’s beside the point.)

The world braced itself for the perceived technological apocalypse known as Y2K.

Advancements like Bluetooth, MySpace and Napster were just being introduced. (Also known as a means of confusing people everywhere as to whom you’re speaking, slacking off at work and, well, stealing.)

Groundbreaking shows like Friends, Frasier, ER and The X-Files were still producing and airing original episodes on prime-time television.

Moviegoers were lining up to see the highly-anticipated Stars Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace as well as blockbusters like The Sixth Sense, American Beauty and American Pie. (I only saw the last three. Unapologetically. That may never change, Dean.)

And YOU … you made me a mom … changing my life forever when you were born on October 16, 1999.

I just can’t believe you’re 17 today, Dean.

I still remember your first words and your first steps … yes, they came in that order. You did it opposite of everyone else in the world. You could speak full sentences but opted to be carried through life just a little bit longer. (Personally, I thought it was a sign of brilliance.)

You were a great eater, but you were a terrible sleeper. (I guess some things never change.) You had a belly laugh that people couldn’t help themselves but join. Your favorite audience was your baby sister. You’d spend hours working to make her laugh. And inventing nonsensical nicknames for her. I honestly believe you tagged her with over a hundred of them. (Mrs. Baybo, to name only one.) Stay close to her, Dean. You mean more to her than words could ever say.

Your dedication to your studies, your family and friends, your pet and your need to just be a good person are humbling for your dad and me to watch as your parents. Somewhere along the line, we know we obviously did something right. Thank you for that, Dean.

Stay the course. You are poised for greatness in the world. Everyone around you seems to know that except you. As much as it truly pains me to watch you grow older and slowly distance yourself from your childhood, I relish the opportunity to watch you develop into the amazing adult I am certain you’ll be.

I know I drive you crazy sometimes. The feeling is mutual, my boy. That’s all part of growing up. For both of us. The important thing is that you know your dad and I are always and forever here for you. If you ever need anything at all … day or night … near or far … sane or insane, all you have to do is pick up the phone. Or whatever the communication method of the future will be. We’ll learn how to use it. For you and your sister.

I love you, Dean.

Happy 17th Birthday!!!


Past birthday posts about Dean:

A Letter to My Son on His 16th Birthday

15 Reasons I Love My Son (on his 15th Birthday)

Happy Birthday, Dean

Happy Birthday to the One Who Made Me a Mom

Thanks, NFL, for enlightening my son …  but I’m taking some of the credit, too

 

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There should be a weight limit to determine who gets to be on the Christmas card


Last week, we finally got around to celebrating my girl’s birthday … which was in May. Don’t judge. We all have busy lives, right? Anyway, we had a roller skating party for a bunch of her little girlfriends. And I LOVE how important it still is for her to say “Mama, come skate with us!” I DON’T love that my butt still hurts from the two spills I took at the party. (The first was a shoelace malfunction so I chalk only the second up to genetic spazzery.)

Anyway … my point is that we’ll pretty much do anything for our kids. Right? Of course, right. Which is the perfect lead in to today’s post. Remember that hamster my girl’s been angling for since last Spring? The one she swore she could keep Milo from ingesting?

Yeah, THAT one.

Well, a mother can only take so much begging. I guess I kept thinking about the cats … and dogs … and birds … and gerbils … and newts … and fish … and whatever else we managed to coerce MY parents into getting for us as kids. And I broke down. As always, Dave was there long before I was. But he had a pet nutria as a kid, for freak’s sake.

So, with my boy sleeping out the night of the party, it was just Dave, my girl and me. And naturally, I thought “What better way to pass the evening than to bring a rodent intentionally into the house?”

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Three pet store visits and $50 later … and we had him.

We must have seen at least 30 hamsters that night but my girl honed in on hers immediately. She liked him because he was the runt and he was all wet because he kept spastically falling into his own water bowl. (Sigh.) Do we really need another clumsy little freak around here?

So, anyway, without further ado, please allow me to present the latest member of our family …

  • the one Milo is most excited about …
  • he poops in your hand but not in your … (Bet I could turn that into the world’s grossest M&M slogan)
  • your hamster … and mine

Herve!

(Pause for applause. or laughter. your call)
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Are you thinking of Fantasy Island, too? Because I just can’t shake it.

I just know this little varmint is going to provide me with miles and miles of blog fodder. So, thanks in advance, Herve. I realize you might actually be a female but my girl said your name would still work because it’s “HER-ve.” … What’s that? Please just shut up and go with it. You’re a hamster. What do YOU care?” … (cough, sputter) I mean, uh … Welcome …

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… and please don’t kill me.

(Sigh)

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me