Yesterday was Aiden's first birthday; His first party. I could go on and on about the details - the gourmet sandwiches, the three birthday cakes, the Winnie-the-pooh wall decorations, the matching pinata and the pounds of candy - but what impressed me more than anything happened much later in the night when almost all the guests were already gone.
Let me preface this by giving a little insight into Liz (Aiden's mom) when we arrived at the party. She was wearing a Winnie-the-Pooh shirt with a new, short haircut that looks great on her. Her nails were done and her house looked immaculate. She ran from one event to another (opening presents, cake, games, and swings) all with a huge smile on her face. Several times, she tried to sit down with us, but quickly jumped up to make sure she didn't miss any moments with her son.
The day flew quickly by and guests started leaving. Friends had to get home to their own families, make dinner, put the kids down for naps. It is becoming a tradition of ours (a lovely one at that) to hang out until everyone is gone and then curl up on the couch and talk about everything we weren't able to discuss during the day. Meg, Liz, and I find this time a wonderfully calming end to a busy, chaotic day.
So last night, just as Meg and I finally make our way to the couch, Liz says she is going to put Aiden to bed and she will be right back.
"Do you mind if I come?" Meg asks.
"Can I come too?" I ask shyly. I don't want to impose but I would love to kiss Aiden goodnight. We walk upstairs and Meg and I are giggly and excited. A baby!
Liz leads us upstairs with the tired birthday boy in her arms and she calmly changes his diaper. She picks out pajamas for him and it becomes obvious that Aiden is exhausted. He is quietly whining and trying to wiggle his way out of Liz's arms. She continues to gently put on his pajamas and when he grabs her face and pulls hard (I mean really hard) she explains to him that he is just tired from such an exciting day. She proceeds to put on his socks and explains to him that he needs them because his jammies don't have footsies. Call me crazy but he seems to understand. He gives up his little, baby-sized struggle and grabs for his bottle.
Then, Liz walks to the lights and dims them so that the firetrucks on the walls are barely visible. I notice the ceiling fan is actually a globe and when the lights are low it feels like you are camping on a clear, warm evening. She then walks over to his dresser and turns on a soothing lullaby that also projects images on the ceiling. I look at Meghan. We silently acknowledge her perfection. She sits back in the pale yellow rocking chair and gives Aiden his bottle. She rocks with one foot - the other cradles his tiny body, and stares at his face as he drifts off to sleep. A smiling, friendly monkey is dancing on his ceiling, a gentle song is playing, and as his sweet, one year-old eyes start to close, he rubs Liz's ear.
I think at this moment that I have never seen Liz look more beautiful. Homecomings and Proms pale in comparison. Part of me wants to run and grab Chad - to make sure he has seen who she is - and part of me wants to curl up in her arms too. I realize how much Chad must love her, how everyone who has seen her as a mother cannot help but fall in love with her. How Aiden must be SO in love with her.
We all sneak out, head downstairs and I don't really know what to say. How can I tell her that I understand it all. Meghan, thankfully, finds words and tells her she makes being a mother look like the most amazing thing possible. Liz simply answers, "Well, it is."
Then, Liz grabs a bud light, puts her feet up on the couch and proceeds to demolish every one of us at "Big Brain" while downing a beer.
Chad and Aiden are two very lucky guys.
