It is late and I should go to sleep because my day started at an hour that started with a four which is basically criminal except that I did it for love so it’s all okay.
I’m not even that tired.
When any family incurs a loss - however it comes - what follows is a year of hard “firsts”. The first Christmas without … , the first Easter, the first vacation, etc. Today we tackled the first birthday. Faith drew that straw and all four of us were uneasy yesterday thinking about it. What’s funny is that none of us said a word to each other, but we all knew it.
Can I just say again how awesome my kids are? Last night Reagan was determined that her little sister would wake up with a smile on her face. So she came up with the idea of buying a collection of little gifts and attaching them to streamers.
Then, after Faith was asleep, she got on a stool and hung the streamers from the ceiling right outside of her door. When I went to wake Faith up this morning, instead of going in as I usually do, I stood outside and knocked. She opened her door looking confused and then broke into an ear to ear grin.
Mission accomplished Reagan. Score one for awesome big sisters.
One birthday tradition we’ve always had is French Toast for breakfast - but it’s not me who has made it in the past, so I wasn’t sure what Faith would want. I asked her a few days before hand if she still wanted French Toast or if we should try something new. She decided to stick with tradition.
So I made it, according to the usual recipe if not with the usual chef. All three kids scarfed it down so it must have been acceptable.
We opened presents at breakfast since it was the only time all four of us would be together. She got a volleyball from her sister, a copy of The Hunger Games movie from her brother and I got her a make up case stocked with all the things she’s been sneaking from her sister’s supply thinking we wouldn’t notice.
She liked all of it.
Throughout the day she got cards and phone calls from family members. The entire 7th grade sang “Happy Birthday” in the cafeteria at lunch. (“Mom! I was so embarrassed!” she said with an enormous grin.) There were presents from her dad at the house when she got home and she took treats to share at dance class.
At 9:30 when we finally got to eat her birthday cake, Faith was pleased. “You know what? It was a good birthday.” she said with a happy sigh of relief.
I thought so too.
My baby is 12. I’ve decided I can call her my baby until she’s a teenager. I plan to do so frequently all year long.