It always felt like a miracle that I had children so any chance I had, I threw a big party. Birthdays were the biggest with extended family and friends.

With Nick and Stephen born 2 years and 2 weeks apart, we always celebrated their birthdays with family and friends on the weekend after Nick’s bday.

I’d make a big Italian meal: lasagna with meatballs, chicken parmigiana, salad, and a cake I baked and decorated based on the boys’ favorite characters or hobbies.

The themes would vary but the one constant at these parties was the gigantic bounce house in the backyard. That’s when we knew the party was ready to start. There was the generic one square of bouncing joy. We loved playing popcorn with the kids, launching them into the air with an exuberant jump.

Each year the bounce houses reached greater heights until the pinnacle Scooby Doo house that kept growing. Scooby and gang appeared larger than life. The interior had an obstacle course, basketball net and slide. It was the epitome of birthday fun. It kept the kids occupied, burning energy, and since I’d get to keep it overnight, the adults would jump around for the evening party.

Of course these parties celebrated my beautiful sons and the joy they brought into our lives. Yet they also brought together the people who held our home together and gathered in love. The connections and lifelong bonds were launched during these parties.

I know we all live with regrets and what if’s. Yet, I can easily say that I have never regretted the birthday parties I worked tirelessly to put together for my boys. They knew love. They felt joy. They played with abandon and learned the strength of family.

I miss those parties. I miss those little boys when anything felt possible and a bounce house got a party started.