The night before her birthday party with friends we quickly revamped the cake topper she had used last year. Gone was the twirly floral dress and ribbon. Quick, some wide vintage lace! Quick, a cotton swab (her idea), cut in half, with a felt star for a wand. Quick, some wings.
Six times around the sun, and the start of this new trip, the 7th trip seems extra serious. Extra monumental. For Mama, at least. Have any other Mamas or Papas felt that way around a 6th birthday?
Last night, I was sure the fairies were around. Thanks to a serious wake-up from her little brother and some Ergo-led walks around the house, I was up and around just before her true birthday at 4h52 a.m., just as night was turning to day, just before dawn. In the magical time when the dark is lightening in the sky, from the edges in.
And out of my usual quiet sleeper’s birthday girl mouth, I hear a soft cry, right when she would have come out into this world.
And I smiled, remembering all of those things we never forget – holding her for the first time, holding her little strong hands. Her vigor and stubborness from the first hour we met her. Her beauty, and her kind heart. How lucky a woman I am to be her Mama.