There is never a convenient time to be sick, particularly when the sickness is of the stomach virus sort, but Monday night seemed particularly unfair. I had just enjoyed a great night of fun and fellowship with the ladies of my church. We ate; we exchanged gifts; we celebrated our Savior's birth. Like I said, to have such a great night capped off by such misery just doesn't seem right.
And Tuesday was my baby's eleventh birthday. As is the way with stomach viruses, I spent the day on the couch, at times wishing the Lord would take me home sooner rather than later. I did let the birthday boy stay home from school (ssshhhhh!), partly to spoil him a little, partly because I was too incapacitated to make the proper decisions for getting him there. Bless his heart, he spent his day feeding and caring for the puppy and bringing me crackers and coke, with Elf the movie and a video game or two in between. Sweet boy. Anticipating a busy evening of basketball we had already given him his presents a day early so at least we were able to celebrate with him somewhat. He didn't complain and as soon as I could sit up in my own strength I took him to Sonic and bought him a birthday milkshake.
His very first birthday was something of a dud as well and, again, all because of a stomach virus. I remember being all excited not only to celebrate his first birthday but I had also planned a little Christmas party, inviting a few of our friends over. We also had planned to attend a banquet at church and I was so excited to get dressed up and out of the house for an evening (a fact that amuses me now but I have to remember what it was like as a mommy of preschoolers and babies). What is it about the best laid plans? Yeah, well, the virus hit and hit us hard and all plans were subsequently canceled. No party. No banquet. And, my poor little baby, no birthday celebration. He opened his presents a couple of days later. He didn't even get a cake! For his first birthday! I know, I know, he was too little to know the difference. But I knew. And felt terrible about it.
I am so grateful for my youngest boy. Though I would love to be able to give him the biggest birthday celebration ever, I am glad for his happy contentment. Of course, he was glad he didn't have to go to basketball so maybe it's all a wash in his book!
See, what a cutie!
Here's the first birthday, him opening his gifts (with lots of help) a day or two late!
And an early eleventh birthday gift: a much coveted Cam Newton jersey!
And, as I stated in my post about our third son's thirteenth birthday, I pray for him, our baby, that he would grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. May he always know how much he is loved, whether the birthday celebrations reflect it or not!