They Say It’s Your Birthday! We’re Gonna Have a Good Time!

I’m writing this on my birthday, which is weird for me to mention because I’m not that big on acknowledging my birthday. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this totally normal affliction before, and not sure if it is within the annals of this unwritten (now partially written???) diary or elsewhere, but I decided I’m not going to go back through everything I’ve done to determine if I have, in fact, mentioned this before so as not to repeat things for my “audience”, and I’m also not going to apologize if I have said it before because ultimately, I’ve decided, that if there is an event, or a feeling, or a belief that I’m mentioning numerous times then it must be something that rings true, loud, and impactful for me, so I guess it’s important, to me at least, and worth saying again. (Only makes sense that was an annoyingly long run on sentence). I suppose it’s also egotistical of me to assume that everyone that is reading this has also read everything else I’ve written previously, so for those of you that find anything I write redundant, I’m sorry, and thank you for reading all the stuff I’ve previously written. You, my friend, are awesome!

Also, it just occurred to me, for the first time I think, that The Diary I Never Wrote is in fact now underway, or partially written, or something like that, and that a diary is likely never fully written right? I mean there is always stuff to capture, reflect on, learn from, contemplate, probably right up until the minute we move on from this existence. Even the fella or gal that would be capturing real time would go something like, “I was just thinking about…” when they kicked it. So the thing that dawned on me from this occurrence, in tandem with my recent focus on creativity and “art”, is that the Diary is actually the perfect art form, because the obvious fact that ART IS NEVER DONE has become annoyingly clear to me over these last few months, and I suppose the fact that The Diary I Never Wrote will never be fully written is evidence of it being one perfect artistic endeavor within the world of artistic endeavors. It will never be done, which is also how I frequently feel about each of the entries I make… Ok, I’m boring myself and this is not at all the direction I envisioned this going when I started writing in my head an hour or so ago.

It’s my birthday, who cares really, but then I suppose I wouldn’t be mentioning it if that was entirely true. My birthday has always been a weird thing whether it is because my big brothers hated their birthdays, and made that obviously known on the days destined to mark their creation, or if it points back to the idea, which I’ve mentioned before (not apologizing), that I don’t like the fact that it provides free attention. Essentially everyone wants to acknowledge you for being born and really you didn’t do anything, I don’t feel that I’ve earned the acknowledgement or praise for this seemingly simple feat (I know all of you motivational speaker types are now going to spout off about how amazing it is that this one sperm made it through this sea of hardships and sperm race competition to finally make it to the egg and then was able to penetrate the egg, yes I said penetrate, and make this one singularly unique being and then all of the difficulty from that point to when you are actually born is so amazing and so on and so on, I know, I get it, you folks will love the way this entry finishes up so just keep reading) and for that reason I think it makes me a bit uncomfortable, probably a bit weird but also I know there are some of you nodding in agreement, isn’t it fun in the club of weirdos! One of my closest friends sent me what I consider to be the perfect birthday card this year and I Love her for it. It’s this…

Nothing more on that, just that I Love it and it’s amazing how some people just so resoundingly get you.

So get to the point jackass, if I don’t want to talk about or acknowledge my birthday then why did I sit down to write on my birthday and acknowledge it? Because something flipped in me years ago after having kids. I know, kids, they change everything, which is true, if you’re reading this and you have kids you’re agreeing, “Yep, kids change everything!” (go ahead and use your own voice for that), if you’re reading this and you don’t have kids you’re rolling your eyes, either way I get it. Cutting to the point, I think, I realized after having my first kid that the celebration of their birthday, their day of birth, is a thing highly worth celebrating. What’s that got to do with me? I’m not sure, but at some point, I realized that on my birthday I Love the fact that there are these one, then two, then VERY quickly after that three kids that were born that I get to “celebrate” my birthday with. Essentially, I guess I see my birthday as somehow representing and celebrating all three of them being here on this planet with me (it’s all about me still) all at once, and that makes it a pretty awesome freaking day to be honest.

So, sitting around on this fine, rainy, kind of grey/gray (what’s the proper spelling of that dumb ass color?? Makes sense it’s ambiguous I suppose) day this joy came to me and I thought of the birth of each of my kids and relived the actual events, as I frequently do. I don’t think I’ve captured these reflections on “paper” to date, but again, if I did, well that’s because it’s pretty damn impactful and important, and I know for a fact that I will capture them again in the future because each of these three experiences could fill a book on their own (my wife just groaned, at this point if she is still reading she can’t believe I haven’t even gotten to any semblance of a point yet). The thing that constantly makes an impact on me is the way each of them came into the world. For some reason I knew from my first kid being born that the moment of world entry outside of the womb would provide an outstanding indication on their lives and who they are and will continue to become. I still believe that, and that’s what’s on my mind this morning that made me sit down and write…on my birthday.

My daughter was born on September 24, 2011. She was born in Boston and Bob Dylan was playing on the speaker we brought into the delivery room. I’m currently trying to control myself from writing the epic recreation of every minute of this seemingly multi day event and will save that for another time (ART IS NEVER DONE). This next part is the memory I will absolutely never forget, more than a firework memory I think, and that is watching her come into the world with arms and legs outstretched and “flying” from the womb resembling, as best as I can explain it, a flying squirrel. It was more like she was launched rather than born. I swear the doctor caught her. She didn’t cry, her eyes were wide open, and she was checking out everything and everyone in the room with grand curiosity and seemingly immediate knowledge. I knew at that moment that this is how she would experience life, with arms wide open, always moving forward, no fear, willing to try practically anything and devouring the world and everything it has to offer along the way. She has, she is, and she will continue to do so in grand fashion.

My oldest son was born on November 21, 2014. He was born in Cleveland and for the life of me I can’t remember what was on the speaker we brought into the delivery room, but I want to say it was rock ‘n roll. When he came out he looked like he was literally trying to go back in but instead he seemed to take it upon himself to sort of turn himself around and end up on top of my wife, his loving mother. He basically went into her arms with no help or assistance needed from the doctor. It was as if he didn’t come fully out, he just grew back onto her on the outside. I said in my head at that moment, “Yep, that’s gonna be her kid for sure.” Come to think of it, I may have said it out load as well. Also, I’m guessing this may not have been all that different from how I may have come out. I knew at that moment that this is how he would experience life, thoughtful, with a measured approach, not doing what he didn’t want to do, faithful, protective, and always having his mother’s back…front, side, top, bottom, you name it. He has, he is, and he will continue to do so in loving and caring fashion.

My youngest son was born on January 19, 2016. He was born in Cleveland and Tom Petty’s American Girl was playing on the speaker we brought into the delivery room. We thought he might be a girl, he was the only kid for which I got my wish of waiting to see what “it” would be, and he has since proven to us over and over again that he is all boy. He came out fighting, not indiscriminately, but he was the first of my kid’s for which there appeared to be a “problem” and the cord had wrapped around his neck. I watched in a quiet state of alarm, quiet so as not to alarm my wife of what was happening but I was kind of freaking out inside. I watched the doctor help him wrestle his head free of the cord and it was quite a thing, I swear at one point in my memory of it, proving these memories aren’t always accurate I presume, the doctor was tearing this alien like cord away from my son’s head with his left foot up on my wife’s groin for leverage. I knew at that moment that this is how he would experience life, as a fighter, not afraid to face things coming at him, not giving up, facing adversity, able to get through it and at one point I think I said, he might be the one sent to save us all. I quietly still think that might be the case on occasion. He has, he is, and he will continue to do so in strong and resilient fashion.

I’m curious about my own entrance into the world I suppose, but it is a quandary that will live on unanswered at this point. I suppose the thing that is more important now is how I’ll go out, not that I’m eager to do so any time soon, as I alluded to above I’ve got a lot more pages of this thing to write. Given what I’ve created here (on earth, not necessarily on this BLAWWWWG) and what I now celebrate on my own birthday I know that whenever I do go out I’ll be surrounded by outstanding Love and a team that will take on the world, even though each will do so in their own way just as they came into the world, eating up everything the world has to offer with compassion, Love and huge hearts, and fighting through what the world throws at them to overcome any obstacles in front of them. Appreciating and being thankful for all of that makes for a truly fantastic birthday that I now celebrate happily, with a smile on my face and without complaint.