birthdays, weddings, and responsibility

I like birthdays. I think that life is precious and ought to be celebrated, especially Libbey's life. I guess there's not much more to say about that.

It's no surprise to anyone when I say that I looove weddings. I love the events themselves with all the dresses, parties, excitement, tradition, and anticipation,

 

but what I really love about them is what they symbolize. For me, they are proof that life and love continue to go on amidst all the darkness and death in the world. They bring people from two separate worlds together to form a bond and a new family. There's nothing more beautiful than family.



Excuse me while I digress for a moment. We all love seeing a daddy and a daughter on a wedding day, but I couldn't take my eyes off of this father/son combo.


 Don't they both look so proud? Okay, digression complete.

So, when Amy planned her wedding day near the day of Libbey's birth, it didn't take long for me to get myself a ticket to the good 'ol US of A to celebrate. And celebrate is exactly what I did. I might have mentioned here before that I went on this trip without the company of my boys. Of course, I felt a tinge of mother's guilt, but I was determined not to let it get in my way. So it didn't. Never has there been a time in my life where I had zero responsibilities. All I had to do was make sure I was in the right spot to catch my airplanes. I got to read without being interrupted. I got to go to public restrooms and not worry about my three year old falling in the toilet. I got to stay up as late as I wanted. I got to eat whenever and whatever I wanted. I got to go on jogs without a giant stroller. I got to spend lots of time catching up with friends. I laughed a lot. I cried some, too. And I got a little crazy.


Thanks for inviting me to your parties, Libbey and Amy.

I had a really, really good time.