Mom,
Happy Birthday.
We were going to just say “Love you” and call it a day… but apparently that’s “not thoughtful enough.”
So here we go.
First of all, congratulations on surviving another year of raising us.
That alone deserves cake.
We know we don’t always make it easy.
There’s the constant complaining.
The arguing about absolutely nothing.
The selective hearing.
The mysterious disappearance of clean towels.
And yet… you’re still here.
Still making sure we’re up on time.
Still reminding us about homework we “already did” (we didn’t).
Still driving us everywhere like you’re running a free Uber service.
We act like we don’t notice, but we do.
We notice that you show up to everything. You are the best cheerleader in the history of the world!
We notice that you somehow know when something’s wrong — even when we say, “It’s fine.”
We notice that when we’re stressed, you’re calm.
And when we’re being ridiculous, you’re… mostly calm.
You’re the only person who can hug us, feed us, help us, and threaten to take our electronics away — all in the same five minutes.
It’s impressive.
You keep this whole thing running.
You care about stuff we forget to care about
- Trumpets
- Water bottles
- Our Sweatshirts
- Vegatables
And even when we pretend getting older means we don’t need as much help, we’ll always need you.
We’re really lucky you’re our mom.
So today, we hope you get:
– A quiet cup of coffee
– Zero arguments
– No one asking “What’s for dinner?”
– And maybe at least one full hour where nobody needs anything.
(We can’t promise it. But we hope.)
Happy Birthday, Mom.
Love,
Your two favorite sons;
Jackson and Oliver
Sorry Sons: Chronicles of a New Dad 