Some people consider their children's day of birth as the best day(s) of their lives. I don't feel that way. Every one of my children was born into a wave of desperate hope and near panic. Days later, weeks, months, I could finally celebrate them, because it's hard to celebrate something you fear is temporary.
Every birthday, though, since that day of birth, has been an altar of thankfulness and celebration for me: that I get to know them and the unfolding of who they are becoming.
And it continually unfolds, a new highlight, a new facet of my child, who God knew from the beginning and who I am learning as we go. These are the easy days, when they have few filters and I am the safest place in their world, and so I see into the windows of their heart with little effort. Someday I know I will have to fight for that view. For now, though, they are so close.
This year we honored our girl baby turning seven. I know gender generalizations bother some people, but my house is preeeeetty true to stereotype. Boy party: video games, cake, running with swords or what have you. Girl party: so much emotion and feelings. The birthday girl temporarily had the worst party ever and then also the best party ever. I bought all of the glitter, and now I get to keep it forever.
In my continuing efforts to be defeated by cake, I decided to make a horse, (from this tutorial) because it was a cowgirl party. The internet has informed me that now I am all set up to start a Godfather-theme-party business, so stay tuned for that. I'm actually totally happy with the outcome of this horse head. I think I'm improving, which could be bad for my fail reputation, so I'm gonna try something really challenging for the next birthday that comes around.
My goal was to have a day that celebrated Brynn, in all her energy and emotion and joy. We did that. I want to do that every day, to take the drama and the chaos and through it all, hear what she's saying and who she is. She is fire, this baby, and I'm so glad.
Happy birthday to my Brynn.