As I sit down to write this blog, my son is celebrating his 11th birthday.
Eleven years old.
I can’t really remember where the past 11 years have gone.
I also can’t remember where I got the idea for the tradition of the Birthday Chair.
Each year, in the dark hours before the birthday boy wakes up, the Birthday Chair is born. It started with balloons fastened to a high chair for a 1-year-old to bat around with cake-smeared hands. When the boys were toddlers, they were bent on dismantling the Birthday Chair moments after waking up; not on purpose, but that’s just what toddlers do.
The Birthday Chair is usually decorated with balloons – we used to have one balloon per year of age, but 11 balloons didn’t fit on the chair when I was decorating it last night. Some years it’s festooned in crepe paper matching the theme colors of the birthday party. One year it was Batman crepe paper for a child particularly captivated by the Dark Knight. One year the crepe paper ribbons and balloons were all primary colors to match the bounce house rented for the occasion. One year I made a fabric cover for the back of the chair in festive birthday fabric.
No matter how it’s decorated, the Birthday Chair is always the place of honor for the birthday boy, until the crepe paper wears off days later and the balloons pop (or are spirited away for balloon wars).
The past few months leading up to this 11th birthday have been an exercise in all things being too babyish for my fifth grader. I wondered how he’d react to the Birthday Chair this morning, as I never quite know what will set off an episode of “THIS IS TOO BABY!!!”
“Mom, make sure I always have a birthday chair,” he said.
And I will.