Almost

My son is with his father this weekend.  After three weekends with me, I thought that we both would welcome the time. Instead, I felt the same pangs as I did in the early days of sending him off for visitation, the same pangs I feel when he leaves for vacation.

Tomorrow, my boy turns five. And I will not be there to snuggle him and cover him in kisses in the first few minutes of his birthday.

I will see him, yes. We will have the afternoon and evening together to celebrate and it will be wonderful. But it was hard to send him off as a four-year old knowing that he would come back to me five-years old. It is fair, the way our time has been divided. It will all be fine as soon as I hang the sign on the door, pull the ice cream cake out of the freezer, tie balloons on the door handles, and wait for the doorbell to ring.

What I have now are just growing pains. I am sure they will return again. There's kindergarten and sleepover camp and high school and college and all kinds of adventures ahead. So it's good to know that they can be soothed with prayers said over the phone and yoga and reminders of just how lucky we are.

For the past few weeks, Lil E has had growing pains of his own, insisting that he would not be turning five. Every few days and whenever we talked about his birthday plans and party, he would saying matter-of-factly that he would be happy to celebrate but that he would be turning four again.

We talked and talked and talked about it -- or at least, I tried. And then I finally shrugged my shoulders and smiled and said, "OK, four it is."

Four had been, after all, a very good year for the boy. A wonderful, hilarious, hopeful, stretching year.

The only time he gave in to his upcoming age was when my mom said she guessed she'd have to return the toys that she bought for him that were clearly marked "For age five and older."

"OK! OK!," he conceded. "I guess I will turn five after all."

We laughed and he shrugged his own shoulders and it seemed like the birthday would go on as planned. Until a few days later when the insistence started all over again. Again, I told him that was fine, that four would be just fine.

Perhaps spending some time with his dad and grandparents has eased some of his resistance to turning a year older. I'm sure the presents and squeals and attention and excitement haven't hurt either. Whatever it is, he sounded calm and happy on the phone tonight. Just after we thanked God for Star Wars and Legos and Scooby Doo and chocolate ice cream, I said goodbye to the boy so determined to not turn five tomorrow.

"Good night, four-year old," I whispered into the phone. "I love you."

"Good night, 37-year old," he whispered back. "I love you, too!"

And with that, there was silence. With that, I think we both said farewell to four.

It's not easy. For either of us. But after ice cream, I'm thanking God that we're growing together tonight.

Comments

[Hillary]

Such a lovely post, as always. Happiest birthday to Lil E, whatever age he decides to be. ;-)

[Amy Sue Nathan]

My son will be 18 on his birthday. Five sounds really good to me.

You and Lil E are so lucky to have one another (but you know that)!

[Shannon]

Ohhhh I love the goodnight 37 year old year part. That is really cute coming from a 4 (well 5) year old. Great blog, just found it. As a kid who grew up with divorced parents, I remember how those conversations went. Hang in there.

[humpsNbump]

This post left a lump in my throat. I am raising my little girl by myself, and I can imagine how hard it is to be away from your son for his birthday.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

~ humps