Birth Day

My daughter, Sweet Pea, is four years old today. When she busted into our bedroom at 7AM, she informed us that today is her birthday– you know, in case we weren’t sure.

Me: Weren‘t you just a baby yesterday? When did you become four years old?
Sweet Pea: At 7:00!

She then asked us why she wasn’t big. Do you remember wanting to know the same thing when you were little? I do. Every year on my birthday, I would wake up bummed that I wasn’t taller, or disappointed that I didn’t feel older.

I still don’t notice physical change so much. I never seem to notice until after it has happened. The scars we have accumulated fade when we’re not looking and the wrinkles pop up when we’re not paying attention. I have, however, noticed that I haven’t been as preoccupied with checking for my own changes because I’m too busy witnessing all the changes in my kids. And the changes are happening, fast.

On this day, Sweet Pea’s 4th birthday, my wish is for everything to stay the way it is now–forever. But I don’t get a wish today, it’s not my birthday. I wonder if I can somehow con Sweet Pea into using my wish? She won’t though. She’ll wish for an Ariel costume or a Beauty and The Beast DVD.

I’ll just have to save my wish for my birthday. But don’t tell anyone, because then it won’t come true.

 

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