It was the Girl’s birthday yesterday – her 9th. It’s the last year in her life that will have a single digit, a single syllable. I know that’s not a thing for most people. Anyway, it’s in the week, so this is kind of a fast and furious celebration on the day itself. Because of our situation, her birthday will probably be celebrated over a series of gatherings and parties. It will spill into October, which is a win for her.
Anyway, I took this not-very-well-rendered picture that is completely redeemed by her smile. Just look.
I gave her a graphic novel, a journal, and a pen that is meant to last for seven years. Says so on the package! I’ll have to replace it when she hits “sweet” sixteen.
After dinner, I took her by the old house, the place her mother and I took her when we all came home from the hospital. It seemed like a birthday sort of thing to do. And it reinforces a mandate of mine about helping her connect to her origins, and her own history.
She’s older now, and in many senses of the word. During dinner, she saw a friend of hers, and yet another friend, at the restaurant. I think she would rather have had dinner with her buds while we parents chilled out somewhere else. That’s fair. Parenting, it seems to me, is a slow process of hanging on, loosening your grip over time, letting go, and having some idea on the timing that affects all of that.
Anyway, ppttttphttt. It was a good day. I taught her how to play checkers, too.
Let’s see her little friends do that.