Monday, February 14, 2011

Brynn is four ♥

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Saturday night I tucked my 3 year old daughter into bed, explaining to her that when she woke up, she'd be 4. I pulled her close into a hug, reveling in her wild waves of hair and sweet pointed chin. Then she asked me, in a manner of speaking, if she would be a boy when she woke up. The tears collecting in my eyes turned into tears of laughter, and I gave up on sentimentality for the night.

This year we got to have her party on her actual birthday, and we invited some non-related kids, which was a first. She woke up talking about it. Actually, all of the younger set were pretty focused on the party. R2 stood in the kitchen, staring at the cake mix and making annoyed squeaking sounds all. day. long. Toby carried around a bag of balloons for about 3 hours, and Brynn screamed with excitement about everything all day. "I'm having TOAST because it's my BIRTHDAY!!!! EEE!" "Is this my BIRTHDAY SHIRT???" etc.

Finally it was time and we started putting out the sparkly pink stuff everywhere and making the little party favor bags, and I thought Brynn might combust. She could not contain her joy at every single thing. There is a tiny part of me that's not in denial, that knows someday they might be somewhat apathetic teenagers, and the energy and excitement of birthdays might weaken a little. Right now, though, it is the FUNNEST thing. I'm gonna blaze right on through that sentence, using the word I want to use and darning the consequences.

I made a cake. In the spirit of keeping this blog entry about me, let me tell you. I make food that looks strange and tastes good. I try so hard, and it never works out. I tried to talk my Valentine's baby into a round cake instead of the heart shape and failed. Note to everyone: heart shape cakes SUCK. They stick to the pan, yea, even though I grease it with animal fats and dust it with flour. Anyway. She loved it. She said it was BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT.

It was such a fun party. She loved her presents, in fact she wouldn't go to bed because she was busy walking around in her party dress and apron, force-feeding adults plastic chicken and vegetables.

4 years old. She is a bossy, sweet, impatient emotional beauty. She brings me so much joy. Happy Birthday, baby. 

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