Happy Birthday at Home....

where will she be celebrating her next birthday?

Lovely in Comedy of Error last fall.

If you look at the calendar or have a brain in your head, today is Sunday.  So next year the 22nd will fall on a Monday.  In September.  Probably a month after school starts for most universities.  Today what that means to me is that next year, on this date, my #1 will be celebrating her birthday with new friends, in a new space, maybe with a cafeteria dining hall singing Happy Birthday or maybe with a few friends at a coffee shop within walking distance.  But the calendar is against the chance that she will be home.  And so is the fact that she is ready to spread her wings and start sprinkling the magic dust that is her personality on some other lucky corner of the world.

We've done some senior photos; they are gorgeous.
We've taken college visits.
We've gotten up early and headed off to the ACT one last time.
We've sorted college mail.
We've allowed ourselves to be impressed by some of our college mail.
We've laughed at some college mail.
We've recycled A LOT of college mail.
We've cried or smiled through a few 'last times.' There will be more.

And it is only September.

The year ahead brings an emotional roller coaster for us all.  Her too.  I am not sure the younger 4 siblings have any idea how different life will be in a year, but the impact will be felt.

When I wrote about #2 on her birthday I included all the ways she helped the family through my time of illness.  Number 1 had her role to play too.  For better or for worse #1's role was all about me.

Gorgeous as a flapper, just because, for her junior winter prom.

Texts, emails, Facebook messages arrived multiple times a day and they all said 'I love you.'
No matter what was going on at home #1 always said everything was fine: house, kids, school, dad, pets, all just fine.  She missed studying for two major tests, only one of which she got to re take, and she never said a word.  Never let on.  And this all while I was in the hospital.

Once I came home I saw more clearly the roles they played.  I saw that perhaps there was some inequality.  #2 had the lion's share; as well as my dear husband.  What was #1's main job?  Me.
I never walked by her when she didnt hug me.  If I were standing or sitting still she kissed my cheek. The I love you messages continued to come in.

For awhile I had a hard time being alone in my big room at night.  Talented husband was in a show. sometimes I made Bruiser sleep with me and he had to carry her back to her bed when he got home.  But usually I asked #1 to please come study with me.  And without fail, I would hear her ascend the steps giant stack of notebooks and text books.  She would crawl in bed with me, rub my hair or shoulders, kiss my cheek and go to work.  And I would sleep.

Playing dinosaur with the little ones at the zoo this summer.

Many nights she would just show up without my asking.

To this day she doesn't leave the house without kissing my cheek and squeezing my arm.  When she comes home I get a hug.  She checks in with me, how was your day?  Do you need to lay down?  Often I do, but I want to hear about her day and watch her wrangle the littles, so I don't.

I don't know how many days like these I have left, but I will enjoy them all.  I am so very proud of my ray of sunshine and the woman she is becoming.  There are great things in her future.  This I know.
And she loves me a lot.  This I know too.

Give- a comparison of gifts

Let's just get it out of the way, I haven't blogged in FOREVER.  And I probably have had time. And now I am back attempting the full time teaching gig and full time mom gig and embarking on the full time theater gig...and trying to blog.  But 9/11 is a special day. A day of National Remembrance and a day of celebrating my #2. A day to think back, for reflection and for counting blessings.

It has been nearly 9 months since viral meningitis rocked our world. Aside from all the impacts on me personally and physically, the illness had long lasting impacts on each member of this family.

My school, my extended family, my husband, my dearest friends, they all stepped up to make sure that lunches, rides, school work, etc were taken care of each day.

Silly but blessed in her friendships!

But day in and day out WITHOUT fail my #2 was my rock.  And every one in our little house knew it. Knows it. She and I may not be the most pleasant individuals at all times, but you can count on us.  I can count on her.  Make lunches, yep.  Plan meals, yep. Pack little people backpacks, yep. Get us out the door, know who is on for rides, be sure #3 is reading enough, surprise the littles with lunchables, check on me to be sure I am resting enough; yep, yep, yep, yep, yep.

Who is this woman child?  This tower with broad shoulders? She certainly is not the same person as the toddler who once kicked her sister in the head, said, 'tupid brat' and kept walking.  Not the same kid as the one who would beg for an ice cream cone and then scream bloody murder if asked to share one bite.

We ran out of money pre birthday.  I had to explain that to #2.  It wasn't awkward and I didn't feel guilty. She made me laugh and feel OK about it.  We will order her present this weekend and she knows she will get it.  We celebrated with pizza and ice cream at the farm, thank God for Nana. But I didn't think we would have a cake on her birthday at home until Fairy Godmother brought one to the house.  #2 is the baker of course.  The rest of us sit back and enjoy birthday cakes made by her for us.  On her day I had nothing. The only thing at the party for her to unwrap was a bit ironic.

Beautiful inside and out!

In a puff protection style mailer envelope with no wrapping paper, a necklace I purchased from the sevenly.org site.  Sevenly is a group that helps support many social issues through recycling and repurposing old keys, old fabrics, plastics, etc and creating wearable social messages to spread the word.  Issues like bullying, child sex trafficking, homelessness, child soldiers, etc.

This particular necklace is a repurposed key on a recycled chain. The key is stamped with one word.
"GIVE."  In theory to remind others to give. Ironically for me on this 9/11 day of remembrance and thankfulness, I gave a key labeled 'give' to someone who 'gives' to me daily.

I thank God for her and the beauty of her giving spirit every day.  Today I thank God for this little key that reminded me of just how much giving my #2 does on a daily basis.  It does get lost in the crabby attitude sometimes, but I don't have to think too hard to realize where that comes from, that much is clearly inherited. I can hardly hold that against her.  As I like to say, we all have a number one skill and mine is crabbiness.  She herds, organizes, cleans, bakes, teaches, hugs and disciplines with an iron fist and warm heart. That heart is hidden under layers of protective necessity:  who needs what, when, how will we get that done, how is mom, where is dad, what time do we need to leave.  Her blue/gold personality keeps those emotions of warmth, creativity, silliness and joy hidden just beneath the surface.  They are there disguised as getting us to school on time, packing healthy lunches, teaching us to bathe and brush teeth so we arent the smelly one at school, fiercely tight hugs and enormous pride at our accomplishments.

Hugs and candy and play time and giggling and all sorts of shenanigans would be more fun, but in the end they don't yield a lasting impact.  And what #2 has to give is going to last us a long time.

Strong and Hard working I know my school has learned what a valuable asset she is too!

In just a couple years I will let her go.  I used to think I knew just what she would do when she 'grew' up. Now I have no idea. The world is hers and it better be good to her because she will give and give and give.  And it, like me, will be undeserving, lucky and blessed.
Happy Birthday #2.  I love you.