Hudson has never met a party he didn’t like. He’s our resident extrovert – happiest when surrounded by a swarm of people, quite content to be at the center of it all.
Recently we celebrated a decade of his life.
In some ways, the fact that Hudson’s birthday falls smack bang on the biggest party event of the year (New Year’s) is poetically perfect, yet it also presents some challenges. Even before Christmas, Hudson is cornering me, asking what I’ve planned for his birthday. He knows he will forever have to share the spotlight, but nonetheless, he’s very keen to ensure I haven’t forgotten him.
We’ve taken to doing a double celebration – a cake (chocolate mud, of course) on New Year’s, and then a party all to himself later on.
The New Year’s Eve extravaganza was a bit of a fizzle. These summer holidays seemed to be the time when 80% of our friends had planned to be away, and the Death by Chocolate gala I had planned ended up being more of an intimate affair. The entire theme had been inspired by a chocolate fountain Ivy ‘had to have’ when she spied it at the op shop, and besides turning it on to make sure it worked, we didn’t think to check whether the chocolate would actually cascade.
The fountain turned out to be a puddle. A bubbling mud-pit of chocolatey goodness, but a less-than-impressive pond, all the same. The lack of spectacle didn’t faze us, and we enjoyed the chance to catch up with the friends and family who could make it, and swim/spa the New Year in.
We’d just sang Happy Birthday to Hudson when tragedy struck – a freak accident involving a floor fan and a 7 inch gash down one of our guest’s shins. The night shifted from festive to flustered, as we fumbled logistics and figured out whether to wait for an ambulance or drive the five minutes to the local emergency department. The kids – wide-eyed in fascination and terror – watched on at first, then took advantage of the distracted adults to score more screen time. Midnight came quickly, and those of us who were left stood on the front balcony overlooking the street and marvelled at the firework display, alternately shouting ‘Happy New Year’ and ‘Happy Birthday!’.
Hudson woke up bright and early for his presents despite the shortened sleep, with a sure sense of the menu he wanted for the day. We watched him tear off the wrapping paper, then made our way to McDonalds for a family breakfast. Dave took Hudson on a special trip to Bunnings to stock up his tool and workshop collection, with a special visit to see Grandma and Grandpa on the way.
The day was beautifully bright, and the kids took advantage of the good weather for yet another swim. Then it was hot chips for lunch and Hudson’s perennial favourite for dinner – Baba’s chicken lasagna.
On the last day of school, Hudson and Ivy had both been invited back for their class parties, and we’d made the most of the opportunity by immediately putting together invitations for January birthday parties. Hudson’s was initially thwarted by the throngs of people deciding to head away, but with a last minute date-change scramble, we managed to ensure plenty of friends would attend. In the end there were no less than 25!
Hudson is funny in the way he will continually check in with you to make sure you haven’t forgotten him or his party. Sometimes it exasperates me, and I ask ‘do I often forget you, Hudson?’ He shakes his head in puzzlement, but still monitors my progress ‘just in case’.
Our plan to have the party on the first week back at school/homeschool was a little bit of a planning fail on my account. I had slightly underestimated how different/difficult it would be to add Eli to the mix of homeschooling, particularly when he was less-than-impressed at the thought of having to leave his school friends behind and hang out with his apparently cringeworthy family all the time. The emotional battles of having to convince him over and over that yes, we are doing homeschooling this year and yes, you do have to actually give it a go, and no, you can’t stay home while we go to the library or shops, and just a reminder, there won’t be any screen time this afternoon if you don’t complete your ‘rocks’ (core work requirements).
Sigh.
The emotional battles matched the logistical ones – like how to fit in all the last-minute errands and shopping trips with all four kids, get the decorations up and bake all the things… it was a little chaotic at times, but, with some help from Hudson who was very keen to participate in the creation of his own cake, we managed to get there in the end.
Basketball was back with a vengeance and poor Dave was stuck ferrying three kids, one after the other, to the stadium (over the course of six hours), while ducking into the shops to complete his signature last minute scramble (chips, lollies, drinks and prizes). I used the day to ready the house and pray. For a pool party, the weather was not looking promising, as we were woken up by a deluge in the morning. We eyed the pitter-patter warily, and pictured 25 bored kids cooped up inside the house. Dave went into party beast-mode, devising back-up plans (Olympics style teams, 200 water balloons and basketball games) just in case.
The desperate pleas to the heavens worked a treat, as the skies cleared beautifully just as the party was set to start, and the pool suddenly looked inviting again. The kids took no time at all to jump in, spending time squirting each other ferociously and then ducking into the spa to warm up again.
Hudson’s best friend had been away on a two month trip around Australia and Hudson could barely wait for the moment they would be reunited. The screams of delight and fierce hugs when he arrived made us all shake our heads and smile. They barely left each other’s sides for the remainder of the party.
I checked in a few times on Hudson as I passed him by in the chaos, making sure he was enjoying himself. ‘Best day ever, Mum,’ he said, with a grin of pure contentment each time.
My role kept me mostly in the kitchen, ferrying out food for the masses. There were all the classics – cupcakes, meringues, jelly cups, homemade foccaccia bread, mini hot dogs, party pies, sausage rolls, fairy bread, cheese puffs, fruit and vegetables and huge pepperoni pizzas. Swimming sure seems to super-charge appetites, so I kept the table loaded and re-stocked.
Hudson decided he wanted a basketball-themed cake, to match his obsession with the sport. Seriously, when they all get to have their screentime slot in the afternoon, Hudson heads straight for the NBA app and watches games, highlights, interviews and random glimpses into the players lives. We lined the cake with Kit Kats because they are his favourite chocolate.
It seemed like no time at all before parents were streaming back into the house to collect the party-goers. It was the first time I’ve seen every part of the outside area actually be used at the same time – there was a tangle of bodies on the trampoline, a table tennis match raging and a switch game battle. Not for the first time, we were incredibly thankful for this house and its purpose-built entertaining nooks.
Hudson went to bed that night absolutely content, having finally gotten to celebrate properly with his friends. Our little extrovert’s social tank was filled and he was all but glowing (and probably planning the next extravaganza!).
This year has been a big one for our ten year old. He went from being at school full time to suddenly being home again with Ivy and I. Mostly, he took homeschooling in his stride, enjoying the outings and tolerating the work, although his biggest gripe was that he really missed his friends. We saw huge gains in Hudson’s focus and ability to get through his work, and he got into the rhythm of the new schedule quite quickly.
There was only one hospital visit, which was initially meant to be a minor surgery, but then turned out to be an MRI instead, to check the status of his hips. Hudson can still do most things and is very active, despite the ongoing discomfort in his joints.
Ten years of Hudson has been a wild ride, filled with joy and some heartache (particularly early on). I’m so thankful for another year and cannot wait to see how this whirlwind of a boy develops in the decade to come.
…
Dear Hudson,
What a bright light you are and a unique spark in this family. From the tips of your sun-coloured hair, to the soles of your feet – you exude energy and animation.
You are at your happiest when spending time with others. Joking, laughing, teasing, wrestling – you find it hard not to join in with the fun. An invisible tug of war towards joy.
I love watching you at work – ordering your room, helping Dad with odd jobs around the house, tinkering away in your workshop. In the bustle of activity, you find peace, using your hands to create and shape your reality.
You walk your own path – comfort is king. Despite a whole wardrobe of options, your taste is simple – worn Buzz Lightyear pajamas, stretched tie-dye rainbow tee-shirt, a good pair of socks and an oversized hoodie/oodie. As much as I try to convince you to be adventurous and wear something else, I admire that you know what you want and go with it.
You’ve morphed through many interests and passions over the years – from anything with a ball, to microphones, to powerpoint slides and mini-sermons, drum sets, basketball, footy and building. I cannot wait to see how God will draw together all of your skills and eclectic hobbies in the years to come.
Learn the art of focus, my son, the sense of being singularly directed towards a task. Set aside distractions and obstacles, and put your whole self to work. This will be a key that unlocks your full potential.
Seek out His plans for you and never be afraid to be different. You have a beat of your own and this distinctive rhythm is your gift. Nurture it, protect it – for you are wonderfully and creatively made.
Let His light shine through you and inspire you, my son. We are forever grateful that you have been placed in this family.
Love you always,
Mum
