The Evolution of a Family Tradition
It’s happened before–and probably will again. I’ve been blanked in the past but tonight was quite the opposite. My head just too full to organize a rational or coherent thought. So I turned to the most rational, coherent person I know and asked for help. “I need a guest post.” Begrudgingly, she acquiesced in a fantastic way. Thanks, Maura. I owe you big. I give you—Zoë’s Mom and her very first blog post.
This started about 2 years ago. We were planning my son’s 5th birthday party and my husband and I had no idea for THE BIRTHDAY GIFT. I had been becoming progressively more soured on the vast amount of gifts that I had been seeing kids get for their birthdays. By the time some school friends, Aunts and Uncle and Grandparents threw in their presents, it was hard to distinguish one from another. By the time the child got around to your gift, they were in major gift fatigue mode. So I suggested the idea to my husband – what if we got Zane no gifts at all? What if the gift was a day with his parents, all by himself?
You have to understand that I come from a family of ten. The first five births were all fourteen months apart and I was one of a set of twins (yes, Catholic). We had working parents and we were raised mainly by my grandparents. In those days, my grandma would go to the grocery once a week on a Wednesday and take one (or two) of us with her. Those days were absolute highlights of my youth. Don’t get me wrong, I loved growing up in a large family, but occasionally it was nice to be singled out and be treated like an only child. My grandma would get the lucky kid a piece of candy at the check out counter and maybe lunch at Friendly’s afterward. During that day, you had the chance to be seen just for yourself, to be heard without shouting. These days would come along once every 3 or 4 months and we fought for them tooth and nail. My grandma just wanted help getting her 3 to 4 carts of groceries but she gave us in return an afternoon of feeling singularly loved.
I was a little hesitant to suggest this to my husband. But I must of caught him in just the right mood because he said yes immediately. Then we launched the idea to Zane and he, quite to my surprise, couldnot have been more enthusiastic. Since then we have not bought a single present for our children’s birthdays. They get a day of fun and in that day they may get an outfit and a stop at Build a Bear, maybe a book at the Barnes and Noble. But the focus of the day is on spending time over the course of day one on one with us. And we get a chance to show how singularly loved each of our children are.
Today was Zia’s Day of Fun (the evolved name for the event). She turned 5 on April 28th. If ever there was a child who could break your heart just by smiling, it would be Zia. I have found in the planning of these days that less is more. It is better to be able to walk around an art museum or through a city park than to go to a place with lots of noise and games for kids (an amateur mistake on our first outing). The highlight of the day comes when you actually get to hold a conversation with your child about flowers or art or your memories of growing up.
Today we started out at the Columbus Zoo because they just had a baby elephant born there one month ago. As soon as we got in the 30 minute line to wait to file quickly by this newest zoo arrival, I thought to myself, “We have got to get out of here as soon as possible”. Too many people, too much chaos, not enough quiet to get a chance to talk to my daughter. We saw the elephant and a few other zoo sights but then we took off to this lovely city park on a beautiful sunny spring day.
And it was there, over the course of the next hour and a half that Ed and I had a chance to talk to Zia, watch her chase butterflies, see her run up and down the walking paths of the gardens, and revel in the beauty that is my third child. And it is for these moments that the idea came to be. Zia got a chance to shine today for her parents and a chance to see in our smiles and laughter the deep love we have for her. It is always on these days that I take a moment to tell my child about the moment they were born. (That tradition actually started with my mother, who, despite giving birth 9 times, remembers the day we were born very precisely). So I told Zia today about the perfect spring day she was born on. The first time that year that there was a day that showed summer would again come to Ohio.
On that beautiful day, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who has come to personify for me Spring and its promise of joy and beauty. It was a day very much like today. And so it continues, the joy of being Zia’s mommy.
