And the Award Goes To...

I'll take that Bad Mommy Award back, Stephanie. This week, it's all mine.

Friday was Aengus's 7th birthday. A magical number, so the home educator in me thought, Harry Potter theme, magic everywhere! But Aengus wanted a Nintendo DS, so we used all the b-day budget and gave it to him. I figured hey, he'll see all his friends at co-op anyway; I'll bring a cake and we'll call it a party without all the expense.

So that's what we did. Aengus played with all his friends and had a blast. No organized games or crafts or anything (none that he participated in -- as usual), but plenty of full-on fun and a few presents to boot. I brought a cake, and we all had some, but it was very casual and disorganized. Hey, that's how I run. I said, "help yourselves," and they all did. It was cool.

Later that night, Grammy and Papa came for a visit. We had a brilliant time playing with Aengus's new toys and games. The next day Aengus had his last soccer game (against us parents -- I scored twice, but we lost because the dads were being all nice and gentle on the little beasts) and Aengus got a cool new trophy. We played together all day, then Papa treated us to Chinese for dinner (how does a man live 56 years without ever eating Chinese?!) and we watched a movie. All in all, it was a great day.

Sunday came, and my parents went. We did chores and chilled out. It wasn't until Aengus was in bed that I realized what I'd forgotten: We never sang, "Happy Birthday" to Aengus or gave him candles to blow out. Never, all weekend long. He never got to make a wish.

Childhood is so short; the time for innocence even shorter. How many chances do we get to believe that our wishes will come true, if only we get all those candles out in just one breath? I have a feeling this is the last year for Santa at our house; the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy will be the next to go. How long after that can Aengus's faith in wishes and magic last?

Yes, he'll probably get another birthday or two in which his faith will hold fast; one or two more chances to wish with all his heart then blow with all his body. One or two more chances, and that's it: Truth will set in, then cynicism will begin its slow takeover.

And I took away one of those few precious opportunities through sheer forgetfulness. What's the matter with me?! How could I forget such an important thing? It's bad enough that Aengus doesn't get bedtime stories or lullabies or any "mommy-and-me" activities. It's bad enough that my family rarely gets any veggies, let alone a decent home-cooked meal. And it's bad enough that my children often miss out on field trips and activities. Now I'm actively taking away their innocence.

Hand over that award, Stephanie. I'm the Bad Mommy this week.