For Drakies third birthday we soared in the warmth of his innocent dreams for hours until he opened his eyes and realized that his party wasn't that day, it was a whole week away. In his three year mind he didn't understand that dreaming didn't make things happen, and he definitely didn't know that they would need to appear through mommies hard work and preparation. But while I tried my best to explain, I couldn't stop his little tears from falling.
Of course I needed to make my boy feel better and for the next week we spent every day on a project. Buying the felt tablecloth. Making the road and gluing together the yellow lines. Setting up the table, placing all the cars, and arranging the napkins. Together we wrapped up the juice boxes, cut out the shapes and went shopping for bendable straws.... until finally his excitement came back.
Little did I know how sentimental he was though. Little did I understand that his cake wasn't meant to be cut or eaten. His balloons weren't blown up to be popped. Or his beautiful room, trashed. And the more his face acted surprised at the destruction of the day, the less fun it was for him. In his little three year old mind he wanted his dream to last. The beautiful and real arrangement of hard work and preparation seemed so pointless to him. And again, he just couldn't understand. So, like mommies do best. I rocked him in my arms and held him for as long as I could.
I knew that despite his disappointments, his heart would race the minute he opened his presents. He would forget the destruction and become part of the party in only a matter of time. And soon after the gifts, he did. Nothing before it mattered anymore, instead he finally let go and enjoyed living in his dream with the sound of laughter that he envisioned.