By Tony Zimbardi—Le Mons

Birthday Boy!

Antonio and I are climbing into bed on a Saturday night. “Honey, I forgot to tell you what happened yesterday afternoon when I brought cupcakes to Edward’s class to celebrate his birthday,” he says. “What, happened?” I ask, curious. “I was handing the cupcakes out, one by one, when I overheard a conversation between these two little wise-guys, one says to the other: ‘Did you know Edward has two dads?’ And the then other one says, ‘No!’ ‘Ask him,’ says the first one.” “‘Hey Edward?’ asks the boy. ‘Do you have two dads? Don’t you have a mother?’”

Antonio goes on, “And then Edward, all cool and collected, turns his head in their direction, cocks an eyebrow and with a kind of nonchalant confidence simply says ‘Nope, no mom. I’ve got two dads.’” Antonio is getting excited telling me this, “And they seemed to get flustered and changed the subject. He shut them right down honey! Our kid is going to be able to take care of himself. I was really impressed with the way he handled them and himself.” I squeeze Antonio’s hand, “That’s our boy, Dad, that’s our boy.”

“Papa, wake up, wish me happy birthday,” is the first thing I hear the following morning as Edward stands beside the bed with a large smile on his face. “I’m six now!”

Suddenly Jaime enters the room crying. “What’s wrong honey?” I ask. “I just saw all those presents on the table. Edward is getting all of these presents because it’s his birthday and I’m not getting any.” He stomps his foot for effect. “Oh, I know sweetie,” I try to respond as tenderly as possible. “But it’s his birthday; when you turn five in March, you’ll get all the presents and he won’t get any.” He cries even louder, not much consolation I guess, if you happen to be four.

We walk into Chuck E. Cheese later that day for our fist experience as parents throwing a birthday party for our son. It is mass chaos. Strobing lights, loud music, and all the warmth and charm of a three-ring circus. Interestingly, the only parent couples to show up were the gay dads; the straight moms all came solo, and if any of them didn’t know we were a gay couple, they never let it show. Out came drinks, pizza, and Chuck E. Cheese himself. Two hours later, we can pretty much say a good time was had by all.

“I’m exhausted,” Antonio states as we arrive home. “Me too, I need an Aspirin,” I respond. “Papa, Edward won’t let me play with his toys” Jaime whines entering the kitchen. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I say as I bend down. “But they are his toys.” The volume of his crying intensifies 10 times as he turns and leaves the kitchen. “My head is splitting.” I say turning toward Antonio. “Just think, honey,” he responds, “In only three more months, we get to do this all over again!”

In the next installment: Celebrating a first Christmas as a family.

Tony Zimbardi Psy.D. is a psychotherapist in private practice in West Hollywood. More of his writing can be found at www.drtonyzimbardi.com.