Today my boy is 12....not quite a teenager, not quite a child. He walked out the door this morning wearing a Hollister shirt and size 9 men's Reebok Ziggs and tonight he will blow out the candles on a Despicable Me Minions birthday cake. 12 is that glorious age where you are expected to act like a young man, but still can get away with child like behavior....as long as none of the cool kids are watching. Sadly, though, the 12th birthday is not a highly lauded birthday. There are no special 12th Birthday cards at Hallmark (well, maybe there is the occasional elusive 12th birthday card, but you get my drift). There is no such thing as a "Sweet" 12th birthday party, no overly celebrated milestone in the hype of birthday blowouts. Think about it, how many of you can remember your 12th birthday? Sure you can probably give details about your 13th, 16th, 18th and 21st...well maybe not a lot of detail about the blurry 21st, but I'm betting you celebrated it (perhaps too well). Poor 12, a neglected, often overlooked number in the realm of all things birthday, but I'm here to tell you, 12 should not be taken lightly.
There are 12 months in a year, not 13, not 16, not 21....12. What if there were only 11 months? What if, say, April was disregarded. No flowers blooming, no warm sun heating up the still brisk air, no April showers to bring May flowers. A beautiful part of spring that we just take for granted would be gone. Yes, I realize the spring season would still be upon us, but it would be shortened by one month which might mean a longer winter. Uh, no thank you. I am grateful for 12 months.
There are also 12 hours on an analog clock face....12 hours in the AM, 12 hours in the PM. What if the 12th hour was deemed to be not as important as the ever famous "11th hour", so it was removed? And what if this removal caused us to miss the beautiful orange glow of a sunrise and the red, pink and gold of a summer time sunset. Or horror of all horrors, what if the 12th hour was when the season finale of True Blood or Downton Abbey aired?!! Let's also not forget that 12 equals a dozen. That's a dozen eggs, a dozen chocolate chip cookies and Ryan's personal favorite (ok, fine, it's mine too) a dozen donuts! AWEnestly, if there were only 11 donuts in a box, the donuts wouldn't fit in the donut box evenly and they would slide all around getting gross green icing and sprinkles on my perfectly glazed coffee roll. And without the 12 pairs of ribs we all have protecting our heart and lungs, those vital organs would be vulnerable to so much more than plaque build up from our dozen eggs, our dozen cookies and our dozen Krispy Kremes. I don't need any fewer ribs to add to my risk factors.
The number 12 may not be important enough for it's own birthday card, but the number 12 has historical significance even if Hallmark wants to overlook it. In the Bible, Jesus picked 12 disciples with each apostle representing the 12 tribes of Israel. The Greeks also found the number 12 ideal as they designated 12 major gods to hang out and chill on Mt. Olympus. There are 12 animals in the Chinese Horoscope...which, in case you are wondering, it is the year of the snake....your welcome. There are also 12 signs in the Zodiac Calendar. Dan and I both fall under the zodiac sign Taurus which would explain our natural bull-headedness. And just last year, 12/12/12 occurred and that will be the last triple date in this century....hope you enjoyed it.
Yes, without 12 drummers drumming on the 12th Day of Christmas, the holiday season wouldn't be quite as festive. And to downplay Ryan's 12th birthday because it does not bestow upon him the title of teenager, nor does it give him the freedom to get behind the wheel, cast his ballot, or have his first legal sip of beer, would be heartbreaking...to both Ryan and me. 12 is a beautiful number. I have had 12 years worth of hugs, kisses and snuggles. 12 years of watching a scared little boy overcome some of his fears only to have them replaced by others. 12 years to "see" how different the world can be when you step outside of your own box. 12 years to guide this beautiful little boy into adolescence with both laughter and tears. 12 years to fight for him, protect him and rejoice in him. 12 years of birthday cakes (vanilla cake with butter cream icing only) with candles blown out twice because, well, birthday candles only come once a year. 12 years of understanding how autism may be a part of Ryan, but not what defines him. 12 years x 365 days=4,380 days which amounts to 105,120 hours of loving this beautiful gift that has been given to me, although at times I feel unworthy of such a precious gift.
Yes, so many beautiful reason to celebrate Sweet 12. As kids, birthdays are about the cake, the number of candles to blow out and the presents that matter most, but, to those of us who love them, it's not the presents, it is the present. The here and now. And although we may reflect on birthdays past and how much our kids have grown and accomplished, and we may worry for a flashing moment what the birthdays of the future may hold, we recognize how quickly 12 will pass by, so we try and respect time and glow in the glory of all that is 12.
As my boy slowly morphs into a teenager and straddles that gap between childhood and adulthood, I will be there to help balance Ryan when he is unsure which side of the gap to stand on and I will try not to make him fall in the gap as I desperately cling to 12 for as long as I can. And even though I was told "no happy tears", by Ryan as he left for the bus today, I promise that at exactly 1:39 PM, when Ryan will be "officially" 12 (and while he is in school and can't see me), a tear or two may drop as I reflect on the significance of 12 and I count my blessings (a number much, much bigger than 12) for all that 12 has given me while I guiltily eat one of the 12 chocolate chip cookies I purchased for his 12th birthday. I really wish he couldn't count to 12.
Yes, so many beautiful reason to celebrate Sweet 12. As kids, birthdays are about the cake, the number of candles to blow out and the presents that matter most, but, to those of us who love them, it's not the presents, it is the present. The here and now. And although we may reflect on birthdays past and how much our kids have grown and accomplished, and we may worry for a flashing moment what the birthdays of the future may hold, we recognize how quickly 12 will pass by, so we try and respect time and glow in the glory of all that is 12.
As my boy slowly morphs into a teenager and straddles that gap between childhood and adulthood, I will be there to help balance Ryan when he is unsure which side of the gap to stand on and I will try not to make him fall in the gap as I desperately cling to 12 for as long as I can. And even though I was told "no happy tears", by Ryan as he left for the bus today, I promise that at exactly 1:39 PM, when Ryan will be "officially" 12 (and while he is in school and can't see me), a tear or two may drop as I reflect on the significance of 12 and I count my blessings (a number much, much bigger than 12) for all that 12 has given me while I guiltily eat one of the 12 chocolate chip cookies I purchased for his 12th birthday. I really wish he couldn't count to 12.
This is 12....his first big guy root beer float. No more kiddie menu for this guy as long as grilled cheese is available on the grown up menu.
This is also 12...first time in the front seat because it was "against the law" before age 12 and letting me know through his ring finger how he felt about the photo op. We all know which finger he really wanted to use.
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