12 April 2010
"Oh! And I have bleeoons and a poh-sickle and a cup-cake...and I blow out candle!!"
"Yes!" I exclaimed again, taken aback at the amount of thought she'd put into this whole thing. "Er...would you like...pizza on your birthday?"
"Nnnnoooo. I like macaronicheeseHOTDOG."
I was in the drivers seat, nearly weeping with joy. Easiest birthday EVAR. "Um," I stumbled forward with a little dread, trying to plumb the depths of my nearly-two-year-old's mind, "What kind of present would you like? A dolly? A book?"
"No." After almost a minute of silence, "Oh! I like a ball."
For the last month, we've been hearing about balloons and cakes, candles and balls...and a more recent request for a special birthday hat, non-stop. So guess what today is? It's her birthday. But shhh...she doesn't know it. Her party isn't until Friday, when my mother, sister, and nephew arrive. Why? Because neither of us want to set a precedent that one's birthday comes more than once a year. Part of me feels badly about it, but in the end, she'll have her party with balloons and popsicles, cakes and candles, and of course, her Very Special Hat. People will make a fuss over her and she'll go to bed that night knowing that birthdays are special indeed.
And we'll hear about it every day until next year...or at least until a month before Christmas when the tune will change to Santa Claus.
Today though, I'm taking this as my day to celebrate that two years ago, I first held her in my arms - a tiny, transluscent thing with a small cry. I'm celebrating the fact that she has survived two years of our parenting, a combination of muddling and bungling through. I am celebrating the fact that we have, for two years, managed to save her from herself on a daily basis. After all, it is the job of every mobile baby and toddler to attempt suicide at least twice a day. Today is her birthday and it marks a huge turning point in all of our lives, even if she doesn't know it.