Yeah, I think you’ve done pretty well for yourself today. Actually, I think I did pretty well by you too… and in between missing out on you growing up, and working insane hours… I’m so glad that the day went well. You deserve nothing less than everyday filled with joy and happy prospects.

Credit, of course, to your beloved Aa-Ee… where would we be without her. You don’t know this of course, but the surprise celebration at school was entirely her idea. She planned everything, from the goodie-bags to the cake, and even delivered it herself. *grins* All I did was call the school to clear it with them.

I know you were wondering why I was teary-eyed after dinner. I tried desperately to hide it from you, but I know you caught it all the same. Don’t worry, believe me when I tell you that they were tears of joy.

Tell you a story K?… When I turned 10, I was totally psyched. I’d just been moved to a new school, and as a January baby, less than a month into the term, I didn’t have that many friends. But I didn’t care. I’d never been much of a one for parties and crowds, and the only thing I was really looking forward to, was this incredible yardstick in my mind, that when I turned 10, I was going to get one big candle instead of 10 little ones. I waited all day in school for the evening, when I could blow out that single candle.

When the evening came, and GrandMum came to get me from school, she told me that Granddad had made plans…. To go bowling with his friends, and she was expected to be there as an ornament. No negotiation, no protests,… perhaps…. no recollection that it was even my birthday.

So instead of dinner, and a cake, and the candle that I’d looked forward to for a year; There was Take-out. And I sat behind your Aa-Ee, in front of the TV, crying into a McChicken. But softly, so I wouldn’t disturb her.

Finally, I went into the kitchen, brought out a matchbook, lit a single match, and stuck it into my burger right before blowing it out.

My wish that evening? Well, I cheated, I made two. The first was That as long as I lived I would remember that hurt, so that my child would NEVER be made to feel it. The second, that I would get a hold of myself, a hold so tight that it never wavered, even if that meant I never felt anything again.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though. Aa-Ee heard me crying, and turning around, saw me with my burger-cake and matchstick-candle, and brought out a cake knife from the kitchen which we used to cut the burger. And after that, I got my wish. I managed to get a hold of myself.

I rarely cried after that day. Had few outbursts, was generally even tempered, and never had an ounce of faith in either of my parents again. [Side note Sweetie: You can love someone deeply without having faith in them]

The reason I’m telling you this story? Because I think you need to hear it to understand why I was crying just now.

I got my first wish baby!

I have been so busy this past month that I haven’t had time to do anything. The days ran into each other and even before I knew it, my calendar had filled up to the point where I was fully booked on Wednesday… the 6th of October, your birthday.

And I woke up in the morning thinking to myself “sure, I can do it. I’ll just run from here to here, get this done, get that out of the way… and still be in time for dinner… “. And then I thought… “Screw this, I’m going to get my baby boy the computer he’s been wanting…”. And that’s what I did. Of course, I had help, your dad, uncle ben, uncle remy, Aa-Ee and your grandparents all wanted in on the action… But the computer that you are the proud new owner of, is there because I decided to take the day off and make it happen.

So yes, Timmy, those were tears. But they were tears of joy. Because watching you surrounded by the people who adore you and who turn back-flips just to see you smile, and blowing out the 10 little candles (your choice!) on your cake today, I know I’ve done alright by you, and that I’ve got my first wish.

Happy Birthday Timothy. From a Mother to her favourite (only) Son, I hope hitting double digits is just the beginning of a life that will never cease to amaze and delight, both you and the lives of those you touch in the process.

That’s right. From the day you popped, screaming and purple, into my life, my world shifted on its axis and everything that was important to me was redefined. My definition of self newly encased in the squalling, slimy, unnamed (yeah, you didn’t get named till you were 40 days old, but THAT’s another story) force of nature – you.

From the day you were born, you were the most important thing in my life. That was a long time ago now Tim, nearly a decade. But nothing has changed since.

I feel the need to say this now because I haven’t seen you in two days, and miserably, this is the norm, rather than the exception recently.

It’s been one of those interminable nights. I’m still in the office, still ploughing my way through a to-do list that spontaneously regenerates, and wondering with each new item; What did you have for dinner? Did you finish your homework? Have you packed your school bag? Will I get the chance to say goodbye to your Dino King cards before you trade them like you said you would over the phone?

I worry all the time. From the day you redefined me by –dropping into – my life, my days have begun and ended with a smile on my lips and the picture of you in my mind. But I worry. Do you miss me? Are you missing out because I’m not with you all day every day? Are you becoming the boy I want for you to be? And are you becoming the man that you would want to be?

I worry too, about whether you will ever understand any of this? Whether you’ll forgive me for the times I’ve missed, and whether I’ve compromised our relationship by the choices I’m making.

You’ve said to me more than once, that you thought I was the perfect mumm, but that if you could change one thing about me, it would be that you’d have me at home more. (Of course, you sing a different tune when I come home and we have homework, and school prep, and three days of nagging to get through – at which point you pointedly inform me that things are “a lot more peaceful when [I’m] not in”.) I’m far from perfect sweetheart, but I do give it all I’ve got, and I can’t help but wonder if pursuing my career, my passion will have its long term costs to you, and us.

On nights like this, when I’m missing you most, I always seek refuge in the “precious moments”. Every parent knows what I mean… Those beloved seconds that replay themselves ad infinitum in our heads, when our baby has done something sweet, or naïve, or has said something so incredible that we will go on regaling our friends with the tale of it, way beyond their obligation to nod in polite – albeit feigned – interest.

Unbidden giggles arise at the thought of the day I opened my book-bag at school, and pulled out your milk bottle – overlooked in the rush to get you, to your minder, and myself, to class. Or of the Son-Shine morning. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

I think about having to rush down to school and take you to the doctors the day you swallowed a pen-full of ink. Not because I was concerned (not terribly at least), and not because you weren’t feeling well (you sure looked perky enough)… but because if we didn’t get a note from the doctor saying you were hale and hearty your school administrator, clearly NOT a mother herself, would not have allowed you to go on that excursion to the Discovery Centre. And neither of us wanted you to miss that, not after we’d chosen titbits and packed your day bag, and talked about what you’d buy there.

Moments like those are what keep me going when I’m stuck at work, 16 hours with no end in sight. But as much as each of them is a treasured dewdrop in the ocean of you and me, it is also the tiniest sliver of crystal, under my skin, reminding me that for each of these, there must be a dozen more that I am missing. Even now.

It’s been 9 years and 10 months, and I am not a lot closer to being able to give you the life that I dreamed you’d have. No closer to having all the answers. Because like my to-do list, every question that I think I’ve answered gives rise to a thousand more which I can only hope I will – eventually – be able to answer.

But if there were only one gift that I could leave you with, before I had to thrust you into the world to be your own person, it would be the gift of bring answerable, to you. And that, I guess, is what this is all about.

I work my love, to build a better world for you. I do the work that I do (more exhausting and way more poorly paid than any other available option), because I LOVE my job. My job brings people happiness, and takes them out of poverty, and helps them understand that their choices have repercussions that are powerful, and meaningful, and that make a difference. And I stick to it, even after consecutive 16 hour days, because when you are older, and are in the position to choose a career of your own, I want you to have the strength to choose a job that makes you as happy and fulfilled as mine does. After all, children do as we do, not as they are told.

I want you to know Timmy that chasing your dreams often comes with a large price tag. And if this is a price that you are not brave enough to pay, then you may have to accept that you may never have your dream come true.

As long as I can, I’ll be behind you, telling you always, to go chase your dreams… but when I’m out of breath, or when age and common sense take over, and you start thinking that maybe the road more travelled is the easiest road to take, I hope you’ll look at what the work I’ve done, the work I continue to try and do… and find the courage to live for yourself a life less ordinary.

I may be missing out on moments of your childhood, but I fervently believe that I am building the foundations of your future. Believe me when I say that I am a driven and passionate career woman, but I am, above all else, a mother. Your Mother.

So bear with me son, when I’m not around as much as I should be. And one day, perhaps in the not too distant future, I hope you’ll say that watching me be the person I am, has given you the conviction to be the person that you want to be.

In any case, there’s an interesting note that’s been making the rounds on Facebook, and after putting it off for as long as I conceivably could, I decided to cave in and post my responses there. It’s called 25 Random Things… (yes yes, I can hear you all laughing uproariously)…

Whilst I was scribbling-in my responses though, it occurred to me that this model is an interesting engine for something else entirely.

All us parent-type-people spend our time trying desperately to be the perfect model to our children. We drill ‘good’ manners into their heads like the refrain from a nasty ear-worm, we set a standard that is so ridiculously high that we often fall short ourselves, and what for? At the end of the day, our children will probably turn out to be exactly the people they were meant to be, without our help. Kids. You gotta love them.

But what would you do if you could give your child little nuggets of wisdom. Nothing long and boring (cause they won’t pay attention anyway). What would you say if you knew that your child was listening to your every word?

It’s an interesting exercise for all you parents out there, and even if you aren’t a parent yet, it will get you thinking. I’ve asked a few people, and stumped them all…

My question is this… what are the values that matter to you? Believe me, you think you know… but it’s really hard to spell them out. I’d be open to making additions to this list if anyone has a good one! Meanwhile…

Timmy Darling, this one’s for you.

1. If it won’t matter in 5 years, it probably doesn’t matter now. Whatever you do in life, you’ll have no end of decisions, big and little, to make. Should you do your homework, should you lose your temper, should you fight or walk away. This is a pretty good rule-of-thumb I’ve found, especially when things seem like they’re about to overwhelm you. Think about whether whatever it is will matter to you still in half a decade, and if it won’t, perhaps it’s alright to let it go. This is, by the way, also the reason that you get away with eating mountains of candy and sleeping past midnight.

2. Be kind. To people, to animals, to the space you inhabit. Even if you don’t believe in karma, believe me when I say that kindness is a habit, and when you cultivate it you will find that you can also be kind to yourself.

3. “It could have been worse” is an unforgivable phrase and some of the weakest words a person could ever utter. They are an excuse for all kinds of mediocrity, and the cold bedfellows of people who are too afraid to say instead “Could it have been better?”

4. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you cannot (not to be confused with may not, which is a question of permission not capability) do anything… Smile and tell them, politely (see #7), and remind them that you, and only you, will be the judge of that thank you.

5. Hard things are often the things most worth doing. That’s not to say that easy things aren’t worth doing, many of the things on this list are dead easy to do. But every once in a while, life will throw you a curveball which you feel you can’t deal with. Just stick to your guns and remember that it will all be worthwhile.

6. Don’t be afraid of passion, bring passion to everything you do in life. Run, as if you can fly. Dance, as if the music is in your blood. Sing as if you want the world to hear. Laugh as if no one can hear you at all, and when you must, cry as if your heart is breaking. Love with every fibre of your soul. Absorb the space around you. Listen, to sound, to silence, to the voices in your head, always listen for what is meant not what is said. Watch, consume everything within your sight, colours and textures, human dynamics, unspoken languages. And when it’s time to be still, then just be. See, Hear, Feel and Move. 100%. Always.

7. Be polite. It costs you nothing, and “Please” and “Thank You” will get you more out of life than “I Want” or “I Expect”. The people who seem to feel they have the right to be rude are usually the most pitiable life-forms; rejected by society, and so have to create a sense of self-importance by pushing other people around. You don’t need that. Also, rudeness reflects terribly on your parents, and in your case, that means me.

8. Being afraid is not what matters; how you deal with your fear is.

9. Remember that you always have a choice. Always. Sometimes, it may be a choice between bad and worse, but it is still your choice. Keep this in mind because it means that you, and you alone, are in control of your actions, you are not powerless and you are not a victim. If you’ve made a crappy choice, talk to your mother, you’ll get through it.

10. Don’t fight. I’m not referring just to fist fights and violence, but fights of all kinds. Be as pacifist as you can be without compromising your principles. Never let anyone goad you into a fight in anger. Refer to #1 and honestly think about it from all perspectives. Don’t fight. And if you must fight, Win.

11. Remember to take pleasure in the little things in life.

12. Before you were born, someone tried to buy you. (Yes there is a baby black market). I was offered a fortune for you. I chose you. My point is this… You are priceless. Remember this sweetheart, because there will always be people who will try to make you feel as though you are worthless. They are wrong. You are valued and loved, and you matter. And the people who should matter will never make you feel otherwise.

13. Don’t discriminate. Just don’t. Aside from the fact that prejudice and discrimination cause hurt (see #2), you are closing off entire swathes of life’s experiences when you close your mind to things and people that are different. Not better or worse, different.

14. Listen to your mother. Even if she doesn’t always get it all right… She tries.