We have three kids. Hannah, Samuel, and Scott. Scott is our youngest, and he will be turning four in a week. When I think that it has been four years since the nurse placed him on my chest, we had both had a rough labor behind us, and we looked at each other for the first time. It makes my heart skip a beat. Really it does.
Birthdays are different for a parent than they are for their child. For both it can mean fun, but for the child they see themselves getting more mature. Even if you are just turning four. You are now a big boy. And since there are various levels of, big boy, in part they are. But while for them this is a metaphorical milestone, for a parent it is a real one.
I wonder what it will be like when he really is a big boy. When he is fourteen or forty-four. When he has his own children. You just have to step back and look at this progression with a sense of wonderment. It is just that magical.
Unless you have your own children this may also seem silly and a bit amusing, but these are thoughts that most parents make. Every. Single. Day.