Sometimes it’s still hard to believe I already have two kids. I still won’t wear high heels and often get mistaken for a school girl. Grocery cashiers would often ask in disbelief what I’m buying diapers for. I’m 34. But to me, age is just a number. As I turn a year older, I am also a year wiser, more persevering and more understanding. When you’re the only estrogen in a house full of testosterone, you gotta be. Don’t sweat the small stuff is my daily mantra,... especially to the crumbs on the floor.
As in every year, Sherwin lays his surprise on the kitchen counter, like Santa Claus, the night before. He knows I head there first thing when I wake up. But as with every year, I am always oblivious to it, like one year, there’s a gift bag on the floor that I didn’t even notice until he woke up and pointed it out. He buys me a “For my Wife” birthday card each year even if it costs $6.89 – which is already a jewelry I can get from H&M.
This year he gave me a mug with the photo collage above, he said, so I can see the boys while I sip my coffee. And with the birthday card was a gift card, he said, he hasn’t been shopping with me lately so he’s not pretty sure what to get this time, but he knows my favourite store. And adds that if I spend more than the value of the gift card, I can use the other card from him – the credit card, LOL.
He gave Stefan a choice to write either Happy Birthday or I Love You on the card. Stefan chose the latter as he can spell it on his own. I can picture how he had placed his index finger as “finger spaces” between the words, and signed the card.
Struan greeted me word per word – Happy. Birthday. Mommy!
My boys. The best birthday gift.
