When Labor Day is labor day

What is Labor Day? Well, according to Google, “Labor Day is a federal holiday in the United States on the first Monday of September that celebrates the social and economic achievements of American workers.” Okay, I totally get that. I also remember Labor Day as the day I would be allowed to watch the U.S. Open on my parents’ television and cover my books for school. Do kids have books in school anymore???

In any event, to me, Labor Day has become the anniversary of the day that I was actually in labor and gave birth to Son #3. Technically, I had him the Friday before Labor Day, but everything on television was a “Labor Day Marathon,” and this year, his 25th birthday fell out on Labor Day proper. So we will just say that Labor Day is labor day.

Twenty-five years ago, Son #1, Son #2, some of their friends, and I were having pizza at a local establishment and my water broke. It was the same day that I bought the Little Tykes seesaw that looks like an alligator. Perhaps shlepping that myself is what put me into labor, as I was almost a week early, but this isn’t about blaming things on Husband #1. And for the record, Strudel loves that seesaw and it is still in pristine condition all these years later so, hats off to Little Tykes! Back to my point…

This column is solely dedicated to my baby. Why? Because I totally dropped the ball on his birthday this year. I always try to make a big deal about everyone’s birthday — balloons, cake, favorite foods, gifts, etc. Once I even sent a whole “birthday in a box” to Son #1 when he was in Israel for the year. Unfortunately, I had no idea that even though it cost me almost $100, it took almost two months to get there. Lesson learned.

Son #3 is amazing. This past Shabbos, Husband #1 and I were at a beautiful bar mitzvah. All the speeches were about how incredible the bar mitzvah boy is. It brought me back to Son #3’s bar mitzvah. He was not the most well behaved and we probably spoke about that in his speeches. His principal certainly did — but he always had and continues to have (for 120 years in good health) a smile on his face.

I can say — and not only because I am his mother — that he has turned out to be the quintessential mensch. He is an incredible son, a totally smitten husband, and a loving and devoted father. He did not deserve to have his mother not give proper attention to his quarter of a century birthday. Bad mommy.

I had written another column for this week, but when I realized how all I did for Son #3’s birthday was ask Son #2 to buy him a cake in Israel, it dawned on me that I should use this platform as the perfect present or, at least, some kind of present..oops.

When my dad died, I was in Baltimore visiting Son #3 and my sister. Son #3 drove home with me. Or, more specifically, he let me drive home because I needed to do something other than cry and call people. Son #3 manned my phone, let me drive a tad erratically, and listened to all my stories and thoughts. And those thoughts were not all easy to listen to.

He had been the best roommate to Husband #1 and me when he was still single and his brothers were married and we were too cheap to get him his own hotel room.

He is a kind and compassionate grandson, calling his grandmothers at least once a week, a wonderful brother (most of the time) and the best baby any family could hope to have (THE baby not A baby…and there is a difference).

DIL #3 took the lead this year, and Son #3 had an incredible birthday with his “new” family. Matzo Ball even made him a sign — what a talented 4-month-old! I just want to publicly thank her for that and hope she doesn’t hold my doing nothing against me in the future.

Son #3 — happy 25th birthday. I love you zillions and zillions and will do better next year, but only if you are back in America…..

Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck dropped the ball because Camp Babka has been keeping her very busy, and she wouldn’t change that for the world!