James turned 1 (!) on November 24th, 2012. I really can't put into words how special this day was to me, and what it meant, so instead I'll just tell a little story:
Back when I was in grad school in L.A., I waitressed on evenings and weekends at a nice restaurant and occasionally got to take on big parties in the event space upstairs. One afternoon we hosted a huge party for a little Korean girl who was turning 1. It was a great opportunity for me to do the party - I think I made about $300 in one afternoon - and it was a party I'll never forget. There must have been between 50 - 100 guests who arrived to celebrate the little girl's birthday. She wore a colorful, ornate dress called a dol-bok with many layers which I can only assume took the parents a great deal of time to dress her in. They spared no expense with the party details. They had a professional company come in to put up a balloon display and hung a huge banner from a sign shop. They ordered the seared Ahi tuna, top-shelf cocktails, goat cheese salads and had brought along traditional foods as well; red bean cakes, rice, and pickled vegetables. They had a gorgeous cake delivered that was decorated with fresh berries that were out of season, and had her baby pictures surrounding it. The father was wore a nice three-piece suit and the mother wore a beautiful dress and high heels. The tables were decorated with favors and streamers and all the guests excitedly flocked around the little girl trying to take pictures and speaking to her in Korean. She cried most of the time. First birthday parties are usually pretty overstimulating to babies and it really wasn't for her, anyway - it's a time for the family to come together and embrace and celebrate her first year.
I was really struck by the care, thought, and planning that had gone into this party. And it seemed superfluous, and really over the top. I'm used to small, happy parties celebrated around a dinner table with a homemade cake, parents, grandparents & cousins, some singing, a birthday sign and a few presents. I assumed this family must have had a lot of money - and maybe liked showing it off - and wondered if the girl would grow up spoiled living a lavish lifestyle. After the party was dying down, one of the girl's young uncles sat down and offered me a cigarette. We got to talking and I remarked at what an extraordinary party it was, especially for a baby. He shared with me that the girl's parents were not, indeed, wealthy - and they had saved for months to host the party. In fact, the girl's grandparents had flown over just for the occasion. In traditional Korean culture, the first birthday is usually celebrated with large families and specially-prepared ceremonial food that takes days to get ready. Attention to the details of the party are important, because the party itself is important. Many, many years ago when humans had a shorter life expectancy and life was more primitive, babies in particular didn't often survive the first year because of childhood illnesses, disease, and famine. The milestone celebration is a show of gratitude and a sacrifice to the gods thanking them for the baby's survival. It means, as the uncle put it, the baby has its feet firmly planted in the world. She is here.
And so, James is here. And I understand what that afternoon meant to the sweet young Korean couple and their baby girl years ago. James is here on the planet. He is another person, one of us, his existence no longer only in my dreams or my belly or tenuously suckling at my breast. He has grown strong and well and talks and laughs and looks up at me with huge blue eyes that say, "I am delightful, and the world delights me, and you delight me." :) The day did mean a lot to me, and it was important. I ordered custom invitations from Etsy, made all the decorations myself, served indulgent delicious foods liked baked brie, and Adam & I made James a special cake. I put on a nice dress and dressed James in a sharp, uncomfortable button-down shirt and loved seeing his face light with wonder when he saw his balloons, tried his cake, and played with his family and friends and wrapping paper (and gifts). It wasn't to show off, and it was certainly wasn't to please James - but rather a day to celebrate my gratitude and love for him.
I am so proud and so joyful to have seen him reach this big day and celebrate what it means. To reflect back on this past year, all the late nights up feeding him, seeing his first smiles, holding him in my arms for many hours of the day, watching him be embraced by his family...and knowing that I will never get this year back. As my dad says, that chapter in his book is closed. He's a boy now. I can still see the baby in him - the button nose, the way he curls up on me when he's tired or doesn't feel well, and watching his tiny fingers try open something or grasp something that he can't quite get. But more and more, I look at him and see a toddler - standing tall, wanting to do things himself, curious and confident and ambitious, though still needing me most of the time despite trying to be independent. He is here - he is my heart outside my body - he is my boy - and he is firmly planted.
