Brave Birthday Boy

My older son, Peanut, turned 4 on Sunday. Saturday we had his birthday party at a local park that has cabins you can rent and actually camp in. Originally we were just looking for a cheap, outdoor birthday party option with some shelter if it rained. It was a wonderful party (and it did rain).

My husband decided that for Peanut's birthday the two of them would sleep overnight in the cabin after the birthday party. I do not camp and Sprout had a cold. So after the party we cleaned up, Hubby brought Sprout and I home and then Hubby and Peanut left for their birthday camping trip. I was so proud of my little dude for being willing to brave the "wild" in the middle of October...and proud of my husband for subjecting himself to camping with a very picky preschooler. I was convinced that by 11pm Peanut would be missing his own bed and they would throw in the towel and come home. I stayed up waiting...and waiting...and waiting.

At 12:41 AM I realized they were probably not coming home. Then I realized everyone in my family was asleep but me and that I should probably go to bed.

It also occurred to me that it was officially Peanut's 4th birthday. He was getting to be such a big boy that he was out camping with his Daddy. For the first time since he was born I would not be the first person to wish him Happy Birthday. I reflected on the very moment he was born and I clearly remember, in my epidural haze, saying to him, "Hello. Happy Birthday." I actually started to wonder if he would seem different to me when he got home in the morning...older, more mature. It's insane how quickly they get from Day 1 to Year 4. It's fun to see him grow up, but it's sad to see him need me less and less as the years go by.