A birthday that was highjacked

A mother’s life hardly remains her own after the baby arrives. No matter how clichéd it sounds , it is true.A very learned friend wished me Happy birthday when I was pregnant , and told me make this as yours as possible. She herself being a mother to three adorable kids, didn’t make as much sense to me then as she makes to me now.

The first time around, on my birthday, my son was 9 months old. All I had to do was stay at home and not celebrate. It seemed such a big deal then. Second time around he fell sick. Well nothing dramatic, just change of season cold and cough. But wanted his mummy to be around. I was sad. And thought it was all for greater good. Birthdays come every year. What’s so special this time. May be me and Mr. Husband can have a nice alone time next year.  With the blink of an eye the next year came. Year 2017. My baby could express. And luckily changing season didn’t affect him. And even better, one set of grandparents agreed to baby sit him, so that me and my husband could half some Our time. The day was planned. Alas! Somehow Mr. Junior was convinced that it is his birthday. Just like his birthday and our anniversary. Even today was his birthday. And he wanted was a white vampire cake. The one with red horns. I am still dying of embarrassment, with my cheeks turning ruby red.

I reconciled. 

And if that wasn’t enough, my well wishers were calling to wish me a great year and asking about the day’s plan. Apparently I was sitting with my son, who decided to sleep at 1 in the afternoon and didn’t get up till 4. His father who had an off, wanted to have some family time, but I wouldn’t let him talk with the fear that if junior gets up, he’ll cry.

So the birthday was highjacked. Movie scene shelved. But I was looking forward to the dinner plan. 

I was super happy when Mr. Husband seeing me in dismay got me gorgeous red rose. After 7 years of marriage a red rose means so much more.

But the moment my son layed his eyes on it he decided, ‘yeh toh mera rose hai’ ( this is my rose) And who could fight with a 3 year old.

All the petals were torn apart and handed over to me. And seeing my expression Mr. Husband added, now make rose water out of these.

After an eventful day atleast the dinner plan was intact.

But for me it was more about ‘timeout’ and less about the birthday. It struck 12 again. And I thought, ‘ maybe next year now.’


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