My son is 16.
His birthday is May the 4th (today). Which my niece thinks is the coolest birthday in the world because:
“May the 4th Be With You”
He was born in Y2K – that’s 2000. Which was the year that the world was going to end. The year that everyone was selling stocks and buying gold. The year that all the computers on planet earth were going to crash at midnight. The year that Prince sang about when I was wearing leg warmers and embraced my huge hair.
Y2K came and went with an uneventful climax. Nothing crashed. Nothing ended. Nothing died.
I did have my first baby. Now that was eventful. DH and I had been married 6 years. We looked at each other and said – let’s procreate! In approximately 3 days I was pregnant.
There were 2 notable things about the birth of this child.
He was born in Tampa, FL.
Yup. My son is the only native Floridian, and he doesn’t live there. Everyone who does live there is from Jersey or New York, or somewhere Northern where life is generally cold. At least, that’s what it felt like when I lived there. Everyone talks fast, is in a hurry and has no time for my small talk. Yes, us Kentucky girls like to chat about the weather, the kids, the parents and anything else that happens to cross our minds. We are never in a hurry and everyone is our friend. This drives DH crazy. I remember when we first got married and I would walk down the street waving at people and saying, “Hi.” He looked at me and said, “You are going to get yourself killed. Everyone is not your friend. Everyone is not nice.”
I gave birth to my first in Tampa. Delivering a baby in Tampa is very different from Kentucky. I walked hallways. I used the bathroom whenever I wanted. I laughed. I labored. It was great. No IV. No catheter. No bed-bondage. (sorry for saying catheter).
It wasn’t until I gave birth in Kentucky that I realized how forward thinking, futuristic and fabulous the hospital in Tampa was. In Kentucky I was forced into a prison called a “hospital bed.” I was “given” everything the nurses and staff wanted me to have. The privileges and freedom I had found in Florida had were nonexistent, had vanished or were denied. I wanted to go back to Tampa to deliver all my future children.
My doctor was a Mohel.
Yes, Jewish. Yes, Orthodox. Yes, commanded in the Torah in the book of Genesis. Yes, as in the covenant between God and Abraham and all his descendants. Yes, real-deal, full-blown, to-the-max Jewish Mohel.
My boy did not receive the excepted, normal, doctor-performed circumcision at a hospital before he went home. No-sir-ee.
He got the full treatment. Old school, old testament, 8th day of life, Abraham and Moses style… blessing and all.
“Throughout all generations, every male shall be circumcised when he is eight days old…This shall be my covenant in your flesh, an eternal covenant. The uncircumcised male whose foreskin has not been circumcised, shall have his soul cut off from his people; he has broken my Covenant.”
“God spoke to Moses, telling him to speak to the Israelites: When a woman conceives and gives birth to a boy … on the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised.”
We think it’s cool.
Maybe all your baby boys were also circumcised by Jewish Mohel’s too. I really don’t know how common it is. None of my friends or family had experienced this, so it was crazy and cool to us.
I’m not partial toward Mohels or circumcision or uncircumcision. I just think it’s just interesting that my firstborn got the real-deal.
That was 16 years ago (well, 16 years minus 8 days).
It’s his 16th birthday.
This may seem like a normal birthday and a normal occurrence and perfectly average to most people. If you are me and you have 4 babies who you want to stay at home and live with your forever, 16th birthdays are a problem. This means one more year closer to 18 and one year closer to moving out and leaving me and growing up. Waaaaaaah!
Don’t worry, I don’t plan of having 30 year old men living in my basement playing XBox ….. I want them to grow up, become their own people, find their life and soar. It’s just that……
I will probably have the worst case of “empty nest syndrome” anyone has ever seen.
The good news is that I have 4 children….. they are (mostly) all still little, whipper-snappers and an empty nest is no where on the radar screen at this time.
Happy 16th Birthday Buddy! You are amazing. I am so proud of you.