I've just come in from Connor's birthday dinner, the final leg of his 16th Birthday celebration. The hour is late, my stomach is full, and my eyes are heavy so I'm going to keep this post brief.
It has become our family tradition to celebrate landmark events with a dinner at Ruth's Chris in Boston. I'm not sure who it started, but I'm glad we adopted it early. Connor didn't want a party (probably dodged a bullet there) and he didn't even want to have a small group of friends over. His only request was our traditional family dinner, which for us is Mom and Dad, Nonie and Poppie, and Uncle Andy, our longtime family friend. In the early years of our dinner, we'd have to start early and bring a small supply of things to keep Connor busy. We still meet early, because my parents have a long drive, but now we just enjoy each other. I watched the families with small children and look back in nostalgia, but I'm so glad to be where we are, even with its particular set of challenges.
Being a parent never gets easy, it just gets different. I imagine my own mother getting together with her friends saying I was fine in my twenties, but the thirties were a real bitch. Next stop, Registry of Motor Vehicles. Check, please.
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