Today is Thing 2’s eighth birthday. He is turning out to be a really neat kiddo. He is very smart, caring, conscientious, and SILLY! He loves animals, especially large cats, and has expressed an interest in becoming a zoo vet. And now, of course, he wants a snake, a sand boa to be specific.
Ever since Thing 1 and Thing 2 were really little, I have had them convinced there was a Birthday Bunny. She is the wife of the Easter Bunny, and she drops off birthday presents to kids. I’m not sure how this got started, but now it is a tradition. Being 10, Thing 1 is starting to doubt a little bit, but Thing 2 is still totally convinced.
As I dropped off the kids this morning for school, I asked Thing 2 to call me from his classroom (they can do that for some reason) to confirm his lunch time so that I could bring him the treat with minimal nutritional value (chocolate chip cookies) to share with his class. At this point, he remembered that he hadn’t written his letter to the Birthday Bunny.
Thing 2: “Mom! I forgot to send a letter to the Birthday Bunny! Do you think it’s too late?”
Me: “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe I can send her a text message.” (The kids think all of the gift giving characters have email, voice mail, cell phones, etc. Santa and the Easter Bunny outsource the mall appearances to actors, and they both have an inventory system similar to Target. Technology has actually made pulling off this charade a little easier in my case.)
T2: “When I call you with the lunch time, I’ll give you my list!”
Me: “Ok. I’ll see what I can do.”
Thirty minutes later…
Ring ring ring
Thing 2: “Mom, lunch is at 12:30, and here’s my list”
Me: “Okay, shoot.”
Thing 2: “I want a Bionicle and a sand boa.”
Me: “ Ummm…Thing 2, I’m not sure that the Brithday Bunny is going to want to deliver something that might eat her.”
T2: “Oh, it’s not a problem. Sand Boas don’t get big enough to eat rabbits.”
I love the fact that he still believes all of this stuff. He has his own amazing little world. My wishes for him are to never lose his sense of wonder and to learn how to share his world with the rest of us. I don’t worry about him the way I do Thing 1. I don’t know if that has to do with him being the younger child or his personality. I just know that things are going to be ok with him as he gets older. So, Happy Birthday, Thing 2. I love you and the person you are turning out to be.
With this birthday, I am at the midpoint in my parenting career. Ten years down, ten (or so) to go. If I do my job right, I will become obsolete. These ten years went awfully fast, and I don’t see the next ten going any slower. I had better get on the stick about figuring out my next step. But that’s exactly what this blog is all about, isn’t it?