;)
Monday
Mar142011
Relative
Monday, March 14, 2011 at 10:34AM
It's not that you used the word "boobs" to test out fonts on the powerpoint project you were working on in History class, it's how hard you teacher laughed when he told me about it.
Because that's the effect you have on people. Things bounce off of you and change on their way back to everyone else they reach. They're softened and distorted and askew and in every way made better by having touched you.
God knows I am.
It's not that you worship Eminem despite my most sincere (and hypocritical) protests, it's that when you get the fishtank you've always wanted for your birthday, you named those tiny little fish who help you fall asleep at night Marshall and Mathers. It's not that you were so pissed that I wouldn't let you sit with your friends at junior high school orientation, it's that you couldn't stop laughing at me for forgetting to wash my drawn in mustache off my face before we got there.
How far your grow from me is always relative to how close you need to be to me. Every time you push, you simultaneously pull. You are as ready to grow up as I am to let you, and you want to reach this next level in your life as much as I am anxious to watch you grab your life and live it.
It's not how hard you cringed while we sat on your bedroom floor before dawn this morning, surrounding a little, flaming birthday cake, singing Happy Birthday to you in grossly distorted keys, it's that afterward you crawled around the circle of your family, hugging and kissing each one of us, even your big brother whom you forget in that moment is a total dee-bag nerf-herder.
It's not that you in every way remind me so much of myself that I hurt for you sometimes, because I know what being the kind of person we are does to people like us and all I can pray is that I did better by you than was done by me, it's that you in every way remind me so much of myself sometimes that I thank god for you, because I know how easy it is to forget what being a person like we are means we can be, and all I can do is pray that you will never forget the wonder that you are.
But you haven't forgotten. And I think you're rubbing off on all of us.
And thank god for that.
Happiest eleventh birthday, my angel. Thanks for picking me.
Because that's the effect you have on people. Things bounce off of you and change on their way back to everyone else they reach. They're softened and distorted and askew and in every way made better by having touched you.
God knows I am.
It's not that you worship Eminem despite my most sincere (and hypocritical) protests, it's that when you get the fishtank you've always wanted for your birthday, you named those tiny little fish who help you fall asleep at night Marshall and Mathers. It's not that you were so pissed that I wouldn't let you sit with your friends at junior high school orientation, it's that you couldn't stop laughing at me for forgetting to wash my drawn in mustache off my face before we got there.
How far your grow from me is always relative to how close you need to be to me. Every time you push, you simultaneously pull. You are as ready to grow up as I am to let you, and you want to reach this next level in your life as much as I am anxious to watch you grab your life and live it.
It's not how hard you cringed while we sat on your bedroom floor before dawn this morning, surrounding a little, flaming birthday cake, singing Happy Birthday to you in grossly distorted keys, it's that afterward you crawled around the circle of your family, hugging and kissing each one of us, even your big brother whom you forget in that moment is a total dee-bag nerf-herder.
It's not that you in every way remind me so much of myself that I hurt for you sometimes, because I know what being the kind of person we are does to people like us and all I can pray is that I did better by you than was done by me, it's that you in every way remind me so much of myself sometimes that I thank god for you, because I know how easy it is to forget what being a person like we are means we can be, and all I can do is pray that you will never forget the wonder that you are.
But you haven't forgotten. And I think you're rubbing off on all of us.
And thank god for that.
Happiest eleventh birthday, my angel. Thanks for picking me.
Reader Comments (33)
Happy Eleventh Birthday!
Did they get their Hogwarts letter via Owl?
:)
Mostly cause he is a pile of awesome.
Holy crap this is an awesome post. And I wish there were pictures of the exact second you realized you hadn't washed off your 'stache.
Is TOO still his birthday #for22moreminutes. http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2011/03/14/relative/
Relative http://bit.ly/eJoTXF #mom blog
I meant to not miss it this year, but sigh.
Happy Birthday, *name goes here*! We miss your smiley face and wicked awesome crane-making abilities.
(Zoë told me to say Boob Day instead of birthday. I mention this only because kids who don't understand the true concept of humour and are starting to read are both a liability AND generally good Internet fodder.)
So full of win. Happy birthday!!!!!!
How sweet! Happy birthday, big kid!
Yo kid, Happy Birthday! You and Fury are so much alike it is scary as well. That is why you guys are such good friends, and why you should never ever be in the same city together (think total mayhem). Well, at least not for more than a weekend. See you in a couple weeks!
I teared up! Absolutely and completely wonderful tribute to your child ... I think all parents can relate to the sentiments ... and happy birthday to your angel!
Oh to be worthy of a birthday post from you. Happy birthday kiddo!! You're a palindrome this year too.
The most amazing thing about our kids is that they bring to surface all of what we are. They make us vulnerable in the intensity with which we love them and emboldened in our search to honor that sentiment. Happy Birthday to your son and Happy Mother's day to you!
Way to go happy birthday!
also i apparently suck at your comments box lol
Sounds like you both got lucky on that one. Happy birthday!
He had me at boobs, fonts, and Powerpoint. That, quite simply, rocks.
Happy birthday to both of you.
Amazingly beautiful post. My son was 11 a few weeks ago,did not say to him anythin nearly this poignant.
Happy B-day #2!
Stunning. Just stunning.
Happy eleventh.
thanks for picking her :)
here's hoping your birthday was unparallelled
JumpinJeHoseFat this is spectacular. What a mom. What a kid.
This is a treasure the way you have written to your child this way.
I'm at a loss for words. Even though I'm still typing. A-maz-ing!
Wow. Articulate much? Not me. You used up all the articulate-osity in the blogosland today. Beautiful post.
I just stumbled on your site and honestly, any Monty Python fan is a true friend of mine. I actually had a "best friend application" with this questions on it.
There wasn't blogging like this when my son was 11, I wish there was. But, I loved what you wrote to your son. Mine is soon to be 18 and he's my baby! :(
Also, African or European?
Beautiful post and tribute. I love the idea of your child picking you and not vise versa. This will stick with me forever, so thank you.
Oh, @mrlady 's writing (clenches heart, rocks self) http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2011/03/14/relative/
I can't breathe. my kids aren't even two yet. God forbid I read this when they are 11. (word! @annsrants) via @mrlady: http://bit.ly/eTf82s
RT @annsrants: Oh, @mrlady 's writing (clenches heart, rocks self) http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2011/03/14/relative/
Aww. Happy birthday! Eleven is a big one.
Shannon,
You did an amazing job last night, between dealing with cameras, computers and cooking, talking and teaching, wow- you handled it all like a pro. Did you know Jim before this project? You both worked well together and had great chemistry. I loved both of your recipes, what a great idea to do two versions at once, the split screen was very cool. Thanks for all your hard work to make a fun night for all of us.
Robn Sue
Professional PowerPoint designers often use "boobs" to determine a font's effectiveness. They can easily tell if the font is too perky or too flat (they've yet to find one that is too perky).
Great piece of writing. Heartfelt and humorous. The "It's not/its" repetition is powerful.
Words are a terrific gift. Happy birthday to your son.
This is such a sweet birthday post!
I almost cried at this post! As a mom to 2 boys this really hit home for me...