I get a little excited about birthdays in this house. The older we get as adults (also, parents) the less our birthdays matter. They almost seem like a marker in time, one we pass while acknowledging we’re not done yet.
But for the kids? It feels like magic for a day. The day to celebrate their entrance in our family, in this story we’re writing as Life. It’s my favorite day to cater to and announce the coming personality of the year.
I try to pay attention to the likes and wants of each child around their birthday knowing their attention span for “wants” is very short. I try to realize as many as I can that also cater to their growing talents and list of interests.
Last year: a tea set and harmonica sent her into a frenzy of giggles. She felt like we “got her” and I so totally do.
When she turned 2 I filled a chunk of our living room with balloons for her so she could wake up and walk through a sea of dangling strings, light bouncing off purple, orange and green helium surprises.
When she turned 5 we took her to Disney world to meet Ariel.
Now at (almost) 7 we’re having a sleepover and talking about getting our ears pierced. Soon to be interested in texting (she already pretends to text her friends), soon to be getting her first video game – she still has room for a mermaid cake. She’s still requesting her favorite, tacos, for the menu and we’re still going to giggle and stay up late, eating licorice and popcorn and sleeping on the floor.
There just might be room for more balloons, a little more magic to celebrate our Artist-Rock-Star-Veterinarian-Poet-Love-Child.
She is so amazing.