Lucky Number Seven…The Joys Of Winning As A Mommy

“Damn it, my child is 7!!!” is a thought, one of many, that ran through my mind at some point today. It wasn’t tied to feelings of sadness or thoughts of I’m getting old, I meant it with excitement. It’s amazing to think about how much he has grown from the day he was born and how I would have never been able to imagine just how freakin wonderful he is and how enriched my life is because of him. When he was born he was tiny, 3lbs 8 oz of tiny to be exact, which pales in comparison to how huge his heart and personality are today. He is the epitome of ‘big things come in small packages’, and although I’m biased because I’m his mother, many people that know him express similar thoughts and feelings. Two days ago a friend of mine posted this on my FB wall:

“While I am at it let me say that great things come in small packages! Your baby is meant for great things in this life and God knew who to send him through to ensure this. He’s a great little boy who brings light to everyone around him. So happy birthday to mighty man Tyler as well. Send a smile in his lunchbox for Ms ________ and _________!”

I’ve spent most of the day reflecting on the last seven years of his life and of course flashed back to the day of his birth and all of the events that surrounded his emergent arrival. There are three very distinctive moments that touched me today. The first was during lunch. I sat across from him in the school cafeteria with cupcakes in tow for him and his class. I got chills as I looked at him seated in between my parents who were also there to have lunch with him. There were the two people that gave me life and have loved me unconditionally from the moment they knew of my existence. These are the people that I strive to imitate when it comes to trying to be a good example for my child. And in between those two people was the person who I love more than I love myself.

The second was after school when I picked him up and we were walking hand in hand, he very nonchalantly said, ‘This is what I love and makes me happy”. I asked him what he was talking about and he looked at me and said, “This (raising our hands up), us walking, lunch and tonight (he knew we were going to the basketball game). I love this stuff, it makes me happy.” And of course my heart melted. As a parent, my hope has always been that my son is more impacted by moments and memories than materialistic things and in that moment, I felt like he got it. As I mentioned in my post about his birthday last year (https://86400andcounting.wordpress.com/2011/04/12/on-the-day-you-were-born/), the things that stick out in my mind weren’t the gifts but the overwhelming showering of love I received from family and friends. As parents, we try to make the most out of what we have in terms of giving to our children. Our children don’t know or aren’t able to understand the types of sacrifices we sometimes make for them. Honestly I don’t think children are fully able to understand until they become parents themselves and are doing the same for their children. But in making those sacrifices our only true desire is that our child knows how much we love them and how much we are willing to do for them. My wish isn’t that he know of the sacrifices, but that he values the gift of love that is expressed and given to him.

The third memory was right before I kissed and hugged him for the final time. I had read the book, On The Day You Were Born; we sung our song to each other, You Are My Sunshine and said our favorite saying, “I love you to infinity and beyond, and then some…and then a lotta some.” He looked at me and asked was I going to cry again and at that point I was already teary eyed. I told him maybe and that I had cried several times today because I was happy and thinking about his birth. He said, “I know you are happy, but you don’t need to cry, I’m already born and I’m here.” I told him that that was my very reason for crying. I cry because I’m happy and wonderfully blessed to have been given such a bright, funny, handsome, intelligent, strong and caring son. And he said, “and I’m a humanitarian” (a few months ago I told him what humanitarian meant because of a gesture he wanted to do for a classmate). I laughed and said yes you are and those are all the reasons why I cry, I cry because I’m so lucky to have you. He flashed a snaggle toothed smile, gave me another hug and kiss, rolled over and said good night.

Seven is said to be the number associated with luck. I definitely know that I am the luckiest parent in the world because I was dealt a winning hand when he came into my life.

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