Today is The Girl's birthday. It marks the end of the week of our family's version of Kiddie Gras, brought on by the close proximity of the birthdays (just 4 days apart). During this frenzied window, any illusions of good nutrition, positive discipline, and reasonable bedtimes that we try to maintain during the rest of the year pretty much goes down in flames.
I already gave The Boy his birthday props in this post - now it is The Girl's turn for a shout-out. But before I present the top 10 most magnificent things about my 7-with-the-soul-of-a-70-year old, please indulge me as I get a wee bit schmaltzy. (Hey, it's my blog, and I'll schmaltz if I want to.)
The Girl's entree into the world was not a smooth one. There was a unexpected hospitalization with a blur of doctors, steroid injections, ultrasounds, and a constant low-grade level of fright until finally, at 34 weeks, The Girl came into the world: quiet, tiny and wide-eyed, with a smooshed up nose like a miniature Rocky Balboa.
I only got to hold her for a moment before they whisked her away.
The next time I saw her, she was flat on her back, completely motionless, on a warming tray in the neonatal intensive care unit. She was sporting more tubes, needles, and wires than an amateur ham radio convention. I took one look at her and all of the terror, hope, fear, and hormones of the week washed over me, and I couldn't do anything more than burst into tears.
Because at that moment, I understood in a way that I had never felt before what it felt like to love someone so much that it made you feel desperate inside.
I look at her now, with the memories of those roller coaster first days safely repressed, and I am completely flummoxed that the same girl that we celebrated a "Five Pound Party" for in the NICU is now seven years old. Luckily, she has no lasting complications from her rough start - she's tall, bright, beautiful, and bossy - and yet, I continue to be awed and terrified by her on a daily basis.
So in no particular order, let me lay out top 10 most wonderful things about The Girl.
1. Gymnastics class. She's half a head taller than almost every other kid in there, and without question the least coordinated, but she flops and flails her coltish legs around the whole time with a huge smile on her face - just because she's having so much fun.
2. The nocturnal reading. It's not a bad problem for a mother to have to tell her kid to turn off that flashlight and stop reading already! The only downside is that her bedtimes have been creeping later and later, and she wakes up grumpier and grumpier. It's a bad sign that she has noticed the positive change in my personality after my daily 24oz Dunkin Donuts, prompting her to ask when she she will be old enough to be allowed to drink coffee.
3. The way she helps her brother do little things (like button his pants or spell his name) when she thinks that nobody will see her being nice to him.
4. The current style phase of monochromatic dressing, resulting in the creation of such avant-garde looks like "prison inmate" (grey-on-grey, striped socks) and "Mary Kay Saleslady on Acid" (pale-through-fuschia layered pinks).
5.Her re-enactments of scenes from High School Musical. She sings the heck out of those love songs, filled with as much passion and longing as a 7 year old whose who has never experienced true heartbreak can muster. (If Troy heard the way SHE sings "Breaking Free," he'd dump that boring little goody-goody twit Gabriela in a New York minute.)
6. The bizarre phone calls she has with her best friend. (Sample topic: "Can you see my eyeball?" -Presses eye to phone.)
7. Her perceptiveness and creativity - despite the fact that when combined, it can cause us embarassment, such as the time her teacher asked me why she would write a handbook called "Gear for Love" in which one of the recommendations was "Love Wine". (It came from the Disney movie Enchanted, certainly, not from observing any mating rituals between Manager Dad and myself.)
8. The way she carries on when we try to comb her hair in the morning. I know she thinks brushing is a form of child abuse, but the melodrama attached to the grooming process is fairly hilarious, when it's not completely maddening.
9. Her stubbornness (I call it that when it's working against me) - or "determination" when it's aimed at a problem she's trying to solve. I forsee epic, gladiator-style battles in her teenage years, and I trust she will be a formidable nemesis.
10. The secret 'flashlight signal' where, if after bedtime she requires an extra kiss from Manager Dad, she shines a flashlight down the stairs in just the right place for him to see from the couch. (Yes, I know about the signal, and yes, I know he's her favorite, but it's OK, I completely understand - I think he's pretty great too.)
To my sweet, weird, funny, beautiful girl: the world will be yours for the taking. And I'm behind you every step of the way.
I already gave The Boy his birthday props in this post - now it is The Girl's turn for a shout-out. But before I present the top 10 most magnificent things about my 7-with-the-soul-of-a-70-year old, please indulge me as I get a wee bit schmaltzy. (Hey, it's my blog, and I'll schmaltz if I want to.)
The Girl's entree into the world was not a smooth one. There was a unexpected hospitalization with a blur of doctors, steroid injections, ultrasounds, and a constant low-grade level of fright until finally, at 34 weeks, The Girl came into the world: quiet, tiny and wide-eyed, with a smooshed up nose like a miniature Rocky Balboa.
I only got to hold her for a moment before they whisked her away.
The next time I saw her, she was flat on her back, completely motionless, on a warming tray in the neonatal intensive care unit. She was sporting more tubes, needles, and wires than an amateur ham radio convention. I took one look at her and all of the terror, hope, fear, and hormones of the week washed over me, and I couldn't do anything more than burst into tears.
Because at that moment, I understood in a way that I had never felt before what it felt like to love someone so much that it made you feel desperate inside.
I look at her now, with the memories of those roller coaster first days safely repressed, and I am completely flummoxed that the same girl that we celebrated a "Five Pound Party" for in the NICU is now seven years old. Luckily, she has no lasting complications from her rough start - she's tall, bright, beautiful, and bossy - and yet, I continue to be awed and terrified by her on a daily basis.
So in no particular order, let me lay out top 10 most wonderful things about The Girl.
1. Gymnastics class. She's half a head taller than almost every other kid in there, and without question the least coordinated, but she flops and flails her coltish legs around the whole time with a huge smile on her face - just because she's having so much fun.
2. The nocturnal reading. It's not a bad problem for a mother to have to tell her kid to turn off that flashlight and stop reading already! The only downside is that her bedtimes have been creeping later and later, and she wakes up grumpier and grumpier. It's a bad sign that she has noticed the positive change in my personality after my daily 24oz Dunkin Donuts, prompting her to ask when she she will be old enough to be allowed to drink coffee.
3. The way she helps her brother do little things (like button his pants or spell his name) when she thinks that nobody will see her being nice to him.
4. The current style phase of monochromatic dressing, resulting in the creation of such avant-garde looks like "prison inmate" (grey-on-grey, striped socks) and "Mary Kay Saleslady on Acid" (pale-through-fuschia layered pinks).
5.Her re-enactments of scenes from High School Musical. She sings the heck out of those love songs, filled with as much passion and longing as a 7 year old whose who has never experienced true heartbreak can muster. (If Troy heard the way SHE sings "Breaking Free," he'd dump that boring little goody-goody twit Gabriela in a New York minute.)
6. The bizarre phone calls she has with her best friend. (Sample topic: "Can you see my eyeball?" -Presses eye to phone.)
7. Her perceptiveness and creativity - despite the fact that when combined, it can cause us embarassment, such as the time her teacher asked me why she would write a handbook called "Gear for Love" in which one of the recommendations was "Love Wine". (It came from the Disney movie Enchanted, certainly, not from observing any mating rituals between Manager Dad and myself.)
8. The way she carries on when we try to comb her hair in the morning. I know she thinks brushing is a form of child abuse, but the melodrama attached to the grooming process is fairly hilarious, when it's not completely maddening.
9. Her stubbornness (I call it that when it's working against me) - or "determination" when it's aimed at a problem she's trying to solve. I forsee epic, gladiator-style battles in her teenage years, and I trust she will be a formidable nemesis.
10. The secret 'flashlight signal' where, if after bedtime she requires an extra kiss from Manager Dad, she shines a flashlight down the stairs in just the right place for him to see from the couch. (Yes, I know about the signal, and yes, I know he's her favorite, but it's OK, I completely understand - I think he's pretty great too.)
To my sweet, weird, funny, beautiful girl: the world will be yours for the taking. And I'm behind you every step of the way.
4 comments:
Beautiful. Crying again... She was only 3 years old and so quiet when she came into my life. I remember the days where she was so tiny I carried her at school, and oh that beautiful time the threw up all over me :-) Happy Birthday Casey!
Happy Belated Birthday to your precious girl. She sounds like quite a character! And a doll!
I can totally relate to your birth experience. Our first was born at 32 weeks in much the same manner. I will never forget.
Great post! I love that she shines the flashlight down as a signal to your husband. You'll "tease" her about that forever I'm sure!
Thanks for writinng this
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