Yesterday was a marker of two things. One in the world and one in our family, but both were large.

Yesterday marked the fourth anniversary of the war in Iraq.

Yesterday was Lightboy’s tenth birthday.

I hate that war. It fills me with revulsion. It is being fought for all the wrong reasons. We were told lies to make it palatable. We are still being told lies to keep the real issues from coming to the table. If we were ever able to sit down and talk amongst ourselves about the truth, the money would dry up. I hate that war with every fiber of my soul. Men, women and children are dying to keep a few fat rich men fatter and richer.

I hate most of all that it gets discussed, vigils are held, and opinions expressed, etc. every year on the day that I must attempt to be merry and happy for my son. I love my boy and I love to remember the day he was born and all the days he has been with us since (all three thousand six hundred fifty of them). The struggle to overcome that tension saps my strength. I avoid the news and my usual on-line haunts. But somehow I can’t avoid the inside of my head.

Lightboy had a good birthday. He never knew. He never does. Beginning next year, though I will give him the choice. He will be old enough to choose to participate in vigils or stay home. To hear and read the articles or not. It will be his choice.

It was a quiet birthday. Just us. He got his most lusted after gift … Test Tube Aliens (article here). And he got a surprise that he didn’t know existed … the game Zathura. This is a game which is based on a movie that we all love. The game is an integral part of the movie. We played last night after cake. It was fun and we imagined we were in the movie. It was a good day to be 10.