Their Bad Mother

Their Bad Mother

They Say It’s His Birthday

It’s Jasper’s second birthday. I would be celebrating, if I weren’t sniffling fat, maudlin tears into my Cabernet.

I love that he’s getting bigger, that he’s turning into a boy, I do.
But also, I hate it. I hate it because he’s my baby, he’s my last baby,
and I love his baby-ness, and it breaks my heart to lose it, to lose

jasper two
He blows kisses at me, and my heart swells with happiness, and then the swell starts to hurt, a little, and I have to stop, turn around, take a breath, and remind myself that a swelling heart is a big heart, a loving heart, and that the pain is worth it, always worth it, and that he’ll always be my baby, no matter what. I tell myself that, and I believe it, I do.

But still. I keep a tissue at hand, for those stray tears.

(Happy birthday, baby boy.)


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posted May 19, 2010 at 8:17 am

The love of a mother for her son is indescribable…but you did a really great job! My brother is 32 years old and my mom still reminds him, as often as she can, that he is her baby.

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posted May 27, 2010 at 8:38 pm

My son is 38, married with a baby boy of his own, but he is still “my baby”. That never changes no matter what age they are.

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