A ninth birthday.
Three times thrice hath winter's rough white wing
Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice
Since [her] birth whose praises love would sing
Three times thrice.
~ Algernon Charles Swinburne
I don't know what it is about Elizabeth's
birthday that makes me reflect on so many things: life, her amazing self, parenting in general, my role as a mother. She's my firstborn and only daughter. She is my spirit personified in so many ways, and yet she is a mystery in others. She is fearless, outspoken, adventurous yet cautious, fiesty, persistant, fun-loving and perpetually smiley, much like me. She is also artistic without self-consciousness, unflustered by growing up in a house full of boys, flighty (in that artsy, always-in-her-own-head kind of way) and unafraid to flaunt her own style; traits that are foreign to me and that I appreciate as uniquely Elizabeth.
She is beautiful, in a way that makes me terrified for the teenager-hood that is quickly approaching.
She has an innate appreciation, more so than our other kids, for the things most important in our family: faith, nature, arts.
She lives, breathes, exudes creativity, without even trying.
She is the one who made me a mother, gave me focus during difficult times, inspired me to become the person and mother that all my children need and deserve. She is 9 today.
Happy birthday, Elizabeth!