A mother’s guilt ain’t good. It’s never a good thing.
I try really really hard not have guilt about parenting, and usually I don’t. And while I (totally) understand and realize what I’m about to say is certainly not true and it is indeed silly, it is what it is.
I feel guilty that I’m not throwing my son a huge birthday party with party favors for all the guests. (Even though I think party favors are a little stupid and I don’t want to spend my money on them anyways.) I feel guilty that I’m not spending a lot of money on my son’s birthday gift. (Even though he doesn’t need anything.) I feel guilty that I’m not decorating the house in a homemade Happy Birthday banner. ( I could choose too, but I don’t want to.) I feel guilty that I’m not making him a masterpiece homemade healthy cake but instead will (probably) make him a little cupcake from store bought boxed chemicals and ingredients. (I don’t think a little bit of sugar ever hurt anyone, and he eats very healthy otherwise.) I feel guilty that I didn’t buy him that “Birthday Boy” bib I saw yesterday at JcPenny’s. (It was $9.50 thanksverymuch.) I feel guilty that we’re not having 20 people over to the house to sing to him and shower him with gifts and overstimulate each other.
I’ll tell you what. His birthday is tomorrow. Another (another) birthday post will be up then. I’ll take him swimming. I’ll sing him happy birthday. I will write him a letter in his journal. I will take hundreds of pictures. I will play with him on the floor and read him books. I will smoother him with my kisses and love.
And if he ask really nice, I might even take him to Target.
When he’s four, or five, or six or fifteen and wants to invite 12 people over for a party, and wants cake and ice cream and chips and popsicles and a sleep over and matching balloons and party hats and he wants a monster truck or a pirate themed party or a clown to come do tricks or a trip to the bounce house or the arcades or the race car tracks or he wants to eat ice cream for breakfast, of if he ask if his friends can spend the night on a school night or if he can go see that movie with his friends or can he have two birthday parties or if he ask for a new bike……. maybe. Maybe. Most likely. Probably. We’ll discuss that then. No matter what though, no matter how simple or elaborate his birthday parties might be, I will always take pictures. I will always write him a letter. And I will always smoother him with my kisses and love.
Oh, and I will always let him pick out his birthday “theme.” I have a feeling polka dots aren’t going to be his choice when he’s ten.