Absent Fathers

CC#2 wants a quiet celebration of his 21 years. Just his parents, his brother and the lovely Orlanda. My ex-husband - pause, while I think of a funny name… I can’t - and I haven’t lived in the same country for over fifteen years, and we've navigated these milestones very well so far. It works, in that I bring the boys up and he visits for special occasions. You never know how these things are going to turn out; leaps of faith were frequent in my past. Like everything else over the last few years, there is a lot of pressure on us. When it comes to parental issues, all I can say is the children come first.

Clarice was confirmation sponsor for CC#2 and I wondered if she'd like to join us. The birthday boy was delighted with that idea and I’m very glad she came. My sons have grown up in the company of my girlfriends, many of whom have been like honorary aunts, as I've no sisters. And I've much appreciated when these ladies have stepped up in the early years, to collect them from school or watch them for an hour. Now the boys display a great fondness for them, especially Cruella and Clarice. As these women are now more likely to give them career advice or simply indulge them.

Not having seen ex in nearly a year, I arrive with a studio portrait photo of the boys and our dog, which he’s delighted to receive and brings out the baby photographs from his wallet, I don't even have those. They’ve all had a few pints, and are on the mellow side. Next thing, the dad recalls the night that CC#2 was born, or rather the whole day hour by hour, including the rugby score. It's always funny to watch the faces of big boys when you talk about their babyhood, or rather, their jaws hang open, especially when their girlfriend is present. It's no harm to be the centre of attention for one evening a year. So, I for one will continue to be a pain in the neck about birthdays.

We make our way to Chez Max, our favourite French restaurant, where you’re guaranteed snails dripping in garlic sauce and a sense of being out of Dublin for a few hours, albeit with rain pounding overhead; I hope it will be a night CC#2 will remember, for all the right reasons.

Gem of a Night

So Absentee Boyfriend got away with being absent for my birthday. And I am glad I was here with friends, one of whom arrived in the morning and sang to me with cake and candle. This dear friend and I have sons the same age, just about twenty-one, both studying economics. We have known each other for quite a few decades; ending up renting out our rooms is far from the place we imagined we’d be now.

While my junior economist is wont to pointing out the error of my career achievements, her fellow gave her Freakonomics for Christmas, advising her that she needed to get into a commodity that she could sell multiples of. We are scratching our heads as to what we could dream up to salvage our middle-youth. Cost Centre #1 has disappeared to college and CC#2 is in charge of their joint present giving, not a DIY economics book insight, but a great one called Photos that Changed the World and, weirdly, a hip flask with the words ‘Who needs boyfriends when you can have vodka?’ OK. We’ll just park that.

Birthday mirth is mildly interrupted by laundry and I have to line up a sock identity parade, the whole thing is getting out of hand, what with the addition of ABF’s now and then. At least, Tristan’s are distinctive, but the rest is a mountain of blue and grey. I throw my hat at it in a bid to get some work done and enjoy the rest of March 13 and wonder will there be anything unusual about 13.03pm on 13.03.13. The answer is NO. Not just is it no, but I have another email thanking me for my application but I'm not being interviewed. On to the next lowly  paid, temporary, maternity cover role in the nearby university...

From the Gatsby Collection with Love by Melissa

That evening I am sitting in a great little BYO Lebanese restaurant with dear friends, including she who shall not be named, Annie Oakley, Clarice-the brilliant and talented jewellery designer, my friend who’s going to Japan, my friend with whom I went on my first holiday to Spain and still dines out on the story, and our own Tristan.

With our bottles of wine stashed under the table we are a giddy mix – the kind of night out you need these days and a birthday is a great excuse to do it, it’s like a personal Christmas, and truly gorgeous presents were unwrapped.

Annie mentions she’s got to hire a car to get to south Wicklow for a horse ride next day, I can’t see that working out and insist on driving, because of course I can ride too, I bravely admit. She couldn't get through to the cowgirls so late in the evening, so we forgot about it. As the night ended, we managed to avoid all talk of property tax, water charges, horsemeat and even the Pope, who’d only been elected that afternoon. With 364 more days before the next one, sure, why not chat for a few more hours at home?