It Happens


My oldest daughter recently had a birthday.  And by recently I mean yesterday. Birthdays are pretty low key around here, but I do strive to make them memorable.   We aren’t big on loud celebrations; just an understated, albeit constant, acknowledgement of their birth.  It usually includes our birthday banner, donuts for breakfast with a candle and rendition of Happy Birthday to You, their choice of dinner and one on one time doing whatever their little hearts desire.

Enter the universe.  It has its own {annoying} way of constantly reminding us that it doesn’t care what day it is; its going to do what it wants.  I am all too often reminded that life is truly what happens while you are making other plans.  Sometimes it is awesome and sometimes it is a little messy.

When you are a member of a large family, someone is always sick, plans are rarely maintained.  Apparently, birthdays are no exception.  True to form, my little boy woke up bright and early with a tummy ache.  He then proceeded to expel bodily fluids for the next several hours.  Needless to say, birthday plans: hashtag cancelled.

However, I am as stubborn as the universe and I refuse to allow some random gastrointestinal virus thwart my attempts to make my daughter’s day anything other than ordinary.  So, like any momma would do, I took a breath and adjusted course.

It meant at home pedicures instead of nail salon pampering.

It meant good ol’ fashioned water hose fun instead of community pool time entertainment.

It meant Netflix reruns instead of newly released theater flicks and retail therapy in the form of online shopping.

It meant opening presents before dad got home from work because momma was worn down with the zillionth:

“I can’t wait any longer; puh-lllllllleeeeease can I open them now?”  

It meant drive through dinner instead of dining in and homemade birthday brownies instead of a bakery cakes.

The day was filled with more feuding than friending.  Camaraderie may have been scarce, but somehow you could still feel the love over sibling rivalry.  The five of them are simultaneously best friends and worst enemies.

The birthday girl may have had to share her day with momma nursing a little one back to health, but I do hope she looks back on her seventh birthday and remembers it fondly.

I hope she remembers it as the one that she received her beloved Hatchimal {‘member that fiasco?  If not you can read it here} and not the next five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes {sung to the tune of Rent} that she had to protect it from enemy forces: aka brothers and sisters.

I hope she remembers the fun more than feuds.

I hope she knows her birth was an incredible moment.  That her smile has brightened our days and her spirit has lightened our lives.

I hope she learns to find joy in the curve balls and the importance of taking it as it comes.

Or who knows, maybe her day will live on in her memory in oblivion.  After all, I have no clue how my seventh birthday went down.

In the words of Ferris Bueller: Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around  once in awhile, you could miss it.

What can I say, I am an 80’s kid; obviously I quote Ferris.


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