Before I became a mom, certain things excited me. An upcoming trip. A three-day weekend. Dinner at a favorite restaurant or drinks at a favorite Irish Pub. New jewelry.* Home improvement projects.
Now? Now I get excited about a birthday party for Dr. Seuss at my kid’s daycare.
The kids are going to wear PJs all day and read books. When I first got the note from the daycare with the details, I scoffed a bit. Dress him in PJs? The kid is five months old. He always wears PJs. And he doesn’t know Dr. Seuss from Dr. Drew.
I completely forgot about the whole thing until I picked him up last night. Ms. Jen was very excited about the upcoming celebration. “Don’t forget to dress him in his jammies!” she called to me as I walked out. “WE get to wear jammies, too!”
And suddenly, I had a mental picture of it: Eight little babies in snugly sleepers, relaxing on an activity mat, while a flanneled Ms. Jen exclaimed over “There’s a wocket in my pocket.”
Now that’s just cute.
By this morning, I was BURSTING with excitement that he was going to a party.
When he woke up, I squealed at him.
“Are you ready for school, Ryan?? Are you ready to hang out in your jammies and read books all day? Are you going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Dr. Seuss? Did you know that he wrote ‘Hop on Pop!’ And ‘One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish!’“
He doesn’t get what all the fuss is about today. Clearly. But he does sense my excitement. He did smile when I mentioned “Hop on Pop.” He does know that something fun is happening, even if he doesn’t grasp what exactly that fun is. And that’s enough for me.
*Ok, ok. Jewelry still excites me. I’m only human.