I’m not one to post a Happy Birthday to my kids on FB because Dylan and Samantha are not on FB. The sappy sentiment would be lost to them and instead there would be 52 Happy Birthday emojis and well wishes from my 60 year old friends and acquaintances who’ve never met my kids.
But Dylan and Samantha subscribe to my Substack. In fact, my daughter is a paid subscriber. My son keeps meaning to pay but I really didn’t expect either of my kids to subscribe let alone be paid subscribers. (Thank you. 🥰)
Their birthday is April 5th.
I could write the syrupy truth about how proud I am of them and that they are beautiful souls and I’m honored to be their mom. Or, I could lie and say that they were delightful beings 24/7 growing up and they did everything their parents asked of them and never rebelled.
Hahahahahahahahahahaha...
Here are a few unsentimental, humorous memories of them.
Dylan
Dylan was a goof ball, a kid-comedian after his mom’s humorous heart. When he was four, we went to an Indian restaurant and Dylan began dancing like a cartoon genie to the sitar music. I laughed so hard, the mango lassi sprayed out my nose.
At the culmination show after a week of theatre camp, age 8, Dylan stopped in the middle of the march around the stage to pose like a rock star, ending the procession. The audience went into boisterous hilarity, and I wished I wore Depends that night.
At age 11 hubby Jeffrey got a call from the local transit police. Dylan and a friend decided to moon the passengers riding by on the trolly in Milton MA. It took every ounce of acting ability for Jeffrey and I to punish him without breaking into laughter. I still picture his white ass next to his friend’s brown butt and the two of them losing it, probably farting, in that joyous childhood giggledom.
I should also mention that Dylan also had/has the patience of a monk. When he was 9, we bought him a Lego robot car set. He spent an entire Saturday building it then brought it to school for Show ‘N Tell. His teacher later told me that the car rolled off the table and broke into 346 pieces. Dylan’s calm response was, “It’s okay. I’ll just build another one.”
Samantha
A pure heart melter. She made friends wherever she went. Even as a baby, she reached out to strangers wanting them to hold her.
When she was 5 and we lived in Connecticut she loved going to the market with me. One day, as we waited our turn for deli service Samantha eyed a little girl (and her mom) also waiting. The girls exchanged smiles, and their hips swung with excitement. Their exchange went like this--
“I’m Samantha I’m 5.”
“I’m Madison I’m 5.”
Madison’s mom looked at me and said, “I’m Barbra. I’m 40.”
The four of us had a good chuckle and ordered pastrami.
Last September, Samantha got married. Her friend’s toast included a story of how she met Samantha when she was a nervous freshman at college. Turns out, my daughter still began the conversation with, “Hi, I’m Samantha…”
When we first moved to Brookline and Samantha hadn’t started High School yet, we happened to be driving through the school zone when school had just let out. As we waited for the swarms of kids to cross the street in front of us, Samantha gazed out the windshield and said, “I can’t believe I don’t know these people.”
I was never able to keep up with the number of besties she had. Our condo in Brookline became the teenage hang out. Many ended up sleeping over. Jeffrey once accidentally sat on one of Samantha’s friends who wasn’t visible under the blanket and cushions.

An Aside
As we packed up our house Jeffrey found a song he wrote for the kids when they were born at 27 weeks gestation. He stayed late at work one night to use his employer’s recording studio and surprised me with this song. Wait until the end for Samantha’s giggling.
Happy Birthday Dylan and Samantha. Your secret is out. 1400 of my subscribers know it’s your birthday!
Let’s celebrate all our kids.
1. If you have a kid, fur baby, any beloved, when is his or her birthday?
2. Do you post on FB even though your family member isn’t on FB?
3. Is it Spring where you live? Is there a spring in your step?
I love you mom (and dad) and thank you everyone for the birthday wishes! If I inherited my mom’s writing skills I would have written a cute and comical comment about what an incredible experience and honor it was and is to have my mom and dad in my life, and how they were (and are) the absolute best parents my brother and I could ever ask for ❤️ thank you all for supporting my wonderful mom through her Substack journey, and as my birthday wish—please continue supporting her!! Please and Thank You ☺️
Love everything about this! Happy day to my twin miracles.
-Proud papa and hubby