First Birthday

M. and I have gone to our very first FIRST birthday party. It was really fun. It got me thinking about the meaning of first birthdays.

Finn doesn't know or care that he's turning one. He isn't dreaming of cake or looking forward to opening presents. His entire world is hanging out with his moms, eating and toys. So why does the first birthday feel so significant and why do people make such a big deal?

It's about survival.

I always said I'd give everything a year. A year to adjust to being parents. A year for my body to get back to normal (ha!). A year for things to even out. I didn't know how right I was. As we approach a year I'm finally starting to feel normal. Not like before, but a new normal - one that includes toys all over our house and a blue-eyed little boy who occupies our every waking minute. Our old lives are gone but the shock of our new one doesn't feel quite as earth shattering as it did when we had a tiny dependent screaming little parasitic infant that had hijacked us.

We've made it, baby! Okay, almost made it. We have a week and a half left and there is probably some remote chance that everything will blow up between now and then.

First birthdays aren't really about the kid. They're about the parents. That's why when Finn turns one we're going to go out to breakfast and enjoy each other's company, and be a family. That's why I gave M. a necklace to mark our first year of parenting. Finn will get presents and cake and moms will get the satisfaction of knowing we have gone through hell and back and we're still standing.

THAT is something to make a big fucking deal over.