Growing up our family had a birthday tradition that my mom began when we were young. The night before your birthday, you would go to bed with excitement and anticipation, knowing that in the morning there would be a little birthday package waiting by your bedroom door. I remember waking up in the early morning hours and straining my eyes in the dark to see if there was a little bundle in my doorway. They were usually small token gifts...books, cds, or trinkets...in and of themselves they were nothing special, but given their presentation, they were magical.
I knew when I had children one day, this tradition would continue. Last night Mike and I scoured the isles of the local walmart, looking for a little something special to wrap up. After choosing and replacing numerous toys, trucks, and trinkets, we settled on a new box of crayons. 64 perfectly chiseled Crayolas. It may sound anti-climatic, but we are really hoping to teach our children to delight in the little things... So we took them home and wrapped them up. I made a card and we both wrote a note inside. Then I forgot to put it by his door. haha. Good thing he is only one!
This morning when he woke up, he got in bed with me. I presented him with the package and he gingerly tore back the paper and the ribbon to reveal the gift inside...after a brief moment of staring at the contents of his gift, he grabbed the card I made and took off crawling to the other side of the bed. He clutched the little note in both his hands and squeezed it tightly. He couldn't read what we had written, but he clung to our words, and my heart beamed. My mama, who had been staying with us since the storm hit and took her power, read his little card aloud,
"Happy Birthday Buddy. I'm so lucky to be your dad. I love you. Love, Daddy."
"Hunter Jacob, We have loved every minute of the last year with you...you have enriched our lives with your cheerfulness and smiles...We love you so much and are blessed to call you ours. Love, Momma".