Happy Birthday, Princess!

Sofia turned four yesterday.  How did that happen?  Wasn't she just born?  She has been extraordinarily excited about her birthday for months, and yesterday was no disappointment.  She woke up at 6 am, and asked her usual morning question, "Is it 7 o'clock yet?"  I answered that no, it wasn't, go back to bed.  "But Mommy, today's my birfday, vemember?!"  Yes, of course I remember, but Go. Back. To. Sleep.
At 7:15, her curly head got out of bed and found the balloons we had waiting for her.  She squealed with excitement.  She gave kisses, hugs, thanked us for saying happy birthday to her.  She ran around the house shrieking with joy and saying "Happy Birthday to me!"  We frosted her cupcakes and prepared for her party.  The friends arrived at 10 am, and they had a marvelous time playing bubbles, running around in the gorgeous day, and playing in her room.  Sofia was just so excited.  We had lunch (though I don't think any of the girls ate much), cupcakes (of which the kids just licked off the frosting), and sang happy birthday.  Sofia wore her birthday crown, which she insisted upon, and looked ever the princess.  Then, finally, she was allowed to open her presents.  From us, she got a big-girl bicycle, which she adores.  She still hasn't quite figured out how to make it go on the gravel, but she's outside with her daddy right now practicing.  She also got a princess helmet and bell to go with it, and she's certain that the helmet helps her ride better and will keep her from falling.  She had quite the birthday.  I was even able to convince her to take a much-needed nap with me for a couple hours in the afternoon.  Grandma got home from work in the afternoon, and we had yet another plate of cupcakes complete with candle-blowing and singing, where she got to open the present from Grandma and Grandpa.  She was so excited.  Her unbridled joy was such a fun thing to experience.
Sofia is quite the four-year old.  She is starting to figure out reading, and absolutely loves to read stories.  She can write her name now, and is practicing the other letters.  She creates fanciful games to play, and narrates to herself what she is doing at all times.  It is hysterical.  She loves playing babies and doll house and reading stories to herself.  She loves helping in the garden, which requires some patience, but Sofia claims herself to be an excellent corn husker and tomato picker, so it is worth it.  She loves playing with her friends, though she doesn't get to do it as often as she should.  Jay and Ella still reign supreme in her heart.
We're going through changes.  She's about to start 4K, and she's really nervous.  She says she doesn't want to go, that she wants to go to her old preschool.  I'm trying to tell her how much fun she'll have, but she'll have to see for herself.  She is very excited to be a big sister, and is constantly hugging and kissing my belly, and loves to look at the baby's clothes and toys and even mundane things like diaper cream.  Because of these changes, however (and lord, how I hope it is because of the changes), Sofia has been whiny.  And whinier.  And manipulating of Mommy.  She wants to control what I do and when I do it.  Sometimes I wonder if she even has a voice that doesn't whine.  You know that nursery rhyme?  "There once was a girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead.  And when she was good she was very, very good, and when she was bad she was horrid."  That describes Sofia perfectly.  Except that the good times can make me forget the bad ones instantly.

I love you, precious girl.  You are going to be a fantastic big sister, but you'll always be my baby.  Forever.  Happy 4th birthday, sweetheart.

Three

Somehow, some way, my beautiful baby celebrated her third birthday.

I can hardly believe that the baby I cradled and nursed is now a preschool aged child, no longer a toddler, with a personality all her own.  She's THREE, people.  I mean, I have memories from when I was three.  I'd better watch what I say from now on.

Dear Sofia, 

You delight me.  It is such fun to watch you create stories with your dolls and toys, and make everything into a game.  You create elaborate rules to games that you invent, then expect us to know them all.  You adore painting and choose your colors quite carefully.  You get so excited about things that you literally jump up and down with joy, and cannot control the volume of your voice.  The joy and excitement just spills from your little body.  I love every minute of it.  

You frustrate me.  You have a whine that knows the exact way to get under my skin.   You have to be reminded, sometimes, to use your manners, and to ask without whining.  You pitch a fit when you don't get your own way, putting on a big show, with big, fat crocodile tears, and the most inventive fake cry I've ever heard, even though you know very well it won't get you your way.  

You fill my heart with love.  Your hugs are so tight, your kisses so precious.  You have the most beautiful smile that reaches all the way to your eyes, though you only use it when truly happy, which might be the best part of all (though it makes it difficult to get a picture of).  You are quite picky about who you show that love to and when, which, though disappointing sometimes for an aunt or grandparent, or even parent when a kiss is withheld, is actually a good thing.  I'll be grateful for it when you are sixteen.  

You continue to change and grow so much.  Things you loved last summer (the swing) scare you now.  You are very cautious about new things, new places, new people.  You hide behind my legs and pretend not to hear when a stranger (which may actually be a relative) says hello.  Sometimes, you will even tell them, "I'm a little shy."  Once you warm up, though, you are friends forever.  You create games with certain people, that you expect to be played the same way, over and over again.  Aunt Nancy has a tail, Tia Juli and Tia Jeli smell Stella's diaper, Aunt Sarah has a jungle under the afghan in her room, and you chase Grandpa.

You are so smart.  You know all your abc's, including the sound for each letter, and can tell us what letter nearly any word starts with.  You can count to twenty (and are starting to be able to do the twenties, too) in English and Spanish.  You know about camouflage and hibernation and metamorphosis.  You love to watch, observe and learn.  

You love to dress up, choosing to wear dresses nearly every day, and recently, your ballerina tutu that you got for your birthday.  Always.  You still prefer to be naked, however, and will strip down whenever we aren't looking.

You are a fantastic eater.  You love veggies and healthy foods.  Once, you had a brownie in your hand, and saw that I was processing broccoli.  You dropped the brownie, and begged me for a piece of raw broccoli.  Anytime, dear.  Though, I don't think the situation would be the same had you been eating ice cream.  Peppers, tomatoes, and olives are your favorites, though you love it all.  

You love playing with other kids.  Even though you are shy, painfully so, with adults, you are instantly friends with any child you meet.  In Venezuela, you hung tightly to Natasha and Nathalia, and loved playing with the cousins your age.  You love Jay and Ella, and are always looking for a playmate. I promise we'll get you into school soon.  You need other kids your own age.

You love Sesame Street and Dora.  You play out elaborate schemes of shows you've seen or books you've heard. Speaking of books, they are your favorite.  You would read stories all day if an adult would sit with you that long.  You love the Berenstain Bears, and have really gotten into any book by Mo Willems, including Knuffle Bunny.

You bring us so much joy, Sofia Carmen.  Thanks for a terrific three years.  Each day is precious, and I'm so honored to be your mama. Truly.  Even the days I want to send you to the moon.  

Love,

Mama

Last year of twenty-something...

So, I turned 29. Twenty-nine.  2-9.  The last birthday that starts with twenty.

How?

Turns out, very happily.  Julio made me the most delicious chocolate cake I've even eaten in my life.  Seriously.  Like Sarah said, we can't even call it cake.  That would just make all the other cakes feel bad.  Also, to-die-for lamb chops on the grill.  I don't even want to think about all the calories I consumed on Saturday, only to remember that IT WAS WORTH IT.  We had a fantastic time playing Hoopla and just being together.  I am skipping into my thirtieth year, happy that I know my path and that I am where I belong.

In farm news, we have movement on the turkey front.  Not only did two hens lay an entire nest, they are both currently setting.  If all goes well, we should have poults in approximately 24 days!  We also have an incubator up and running for the turkey eggs we gathered before allowing the hens to build their nests.  We will put the eggs in tomorrow, and in 28 days, if we're lucky, we should have another batch of poults.  I'm so excited!  You should have seen how giddy I was the day I first found a turkey egg in their hut.  Seriously.

The trees are starting to blossom; the flower crab apple tree burst open its blooms this morning, while the cherry and apple trees are moving closer to full-on flowering.  A little early, but a beautiful sight to behold.

Happy Birthday, Honey

Mi corazon,

It has been seven years since we first celebrated your birthday together over a pitcher of beer in MacWen's. That feels like a life-time ago, yet only yesterday.

You had fewer gray hairs, then, though you've always been distinguished. I was barely a woman, and definitely not the same person as I am today. Had we known then where we'd be now, would we have looked at each other differently that night? I remember the feel of your hand in mine; so new and still trembling. I remember feeling so, so lucky to be allowed to hug you, to be the girl to kiss the birthday boy.

Remember that first camping trip we took for your birthday that weekend? The botched tent, the cold night, the tuna and crackers? I've never been so grateful for duct tape, I'll tell you that. The laguna and las cascadas and the paramo, all so perfect.

We've grown and changed as individuals. We've grown and changed as a couple, learning about real love, deep sadness, true happiness.

Seven years later, I'm so incredibly blessed to be the wife that hugs you, the woman to kiss the birthday man.

Happy Birthday, mi vida. I'm ready to celebrate one more year with a bottle of wine and a lot of love,

For always,
tu indiecita