All Things Bright and Beautiful
January 9 was Abby's fourth birthday.
I would like to say she woke up to her favorite breakfast, with her family around her, singing Happy Birthday, indulging her and hanging on her every word.
But Sam spent the night at a friend's, Jake woke up crabby (and a little jealous I think), we needed groceries, Bryon slept in and I, admittedly, spent an inappropriate amount of time bemoaning the fact that we didn't provide a better celebration.
When the pelting rain turned to snow our afternoon commitments were cancelled so I was able to get some balloons, cupcakes and lots of pink paper and ribbon. Late in the evening we gathered around the table, sang Happy Birthday and she opened her presents.
As with most things Abby was pleased, but her enjoyment made me feel guilty; I just didn't feel that our lackluster celebration was worthy of her.
So, Abby, if you read this one day ... Don't be fooled. Your dad and I and your brothers - yes, those gross, silly, restless boys - think you hung the moon. Not a day goes by that you don't surprise, amuse and bewitch us. You are the 13th bagel, the cherry on top, the three-day weekend.
I would like to say she woke up to her favorite breakfast, with her family around her, singing Happy Birthday, indulging her and hanging on her every word.
But Sam spent the night at a friend's, Jake woke up crabby (and a little jealous I think), we needed groceries, Bryon slept in and I, admittedly, spent an inappropriate amount of time bemoaning the fact that we didn't provide a better celebration.
When the pelting rain turned to snow our afternoon commitments were cancelled so I was able to get some balloons, cupcakes and lots of pink paper and ribbon. Late in the evening we gathered around the table, sang Happy Birthday and she opened her presents.
As with most things Abby was pleased, but her enjoyment made me feel guilty; I just didn't feel that our lackluster celebration was worthy of her.
So, Abby, if you read this one day ... Don't be fooled. Your dad and I and your brothers - yes, those gross, silly, restless boys - think you hung the moon. Not a day goes by that you don't surprise, amuse and bewitch us. You are the 13th bagel, the cherry on top, the three-day weekend.
posted by Romine Family at 2:15 PM
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