Three Is The Magic Number

Henry turned three yesterday - really the first birthday he sort-of gets - and we had some of his buddies over for firetruck cake. I was thinking we'd have a sweet quiet afternoon with just a few folks, but I forgot about siblings...oops, I think we had around 12 kids over. At first, I was a little mortified, hoping to squish these lovely little (and not so little) people into our smallish house, with every small one just bubbling over with excitement - for at least the first half-hour. Then everyone got into a rhythm and it was lovely. Boys played with girls, smaller ones played with bigger ones, the biggest ones joined into conversations happening in all corners of the house, and I stopped for a minute to think about this time last year and how far we've come -

Henry's birthdays have all been bittersweet - his birth marked the beginning of an incredibly stressful time in the life of our family, we celebrated his first birthday in the Hospice the day before my dad died (complete with cake and everything), and his birthday last year was emotional because it was overshadowed by the one year anniversay of the death of my Dad (I know my Dad would hate that). So this was really the first truly joyful birthday for him. I still so miss my Dad but that immense sadness no longer creeps in and lingers. And there is so much more room for joy in our life now - I looked around yesterday amid the chaos and really loved the home and family we have here. I love our family and friends who are family who helped us all roll through the emotional rollercoaster of these last three years. Henry's birth and third birthday are now like the bookends to that snapshot in time that pushed us to make our lives simpler, better, happier. And I am grateful. Three really is the magic number.