This week, my oldest child, my only daughter. Is turning eight.
I remember her birth well, after all it was my first. She set the bar by which her siblings are measured.
My least favorite part was being told to hold her in while in the process of pushing her out because my doctor had to attend to a set of twins in another room. The nurse who was with me while the other medical people left had these big saucers for eyes looking out over her medical face mask as I squirmed as I “held her in.”
She was a beautiful, small baby with jet black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were brown with a little bit of green like mine were as a kid.
The day she came home for the hospital, there was a bad thunderstorm. Lightening stuck a transformer near our house and blew out the electricity. But she slept soundly through it. I always said it was a sign of how special my girl is.
Eight. She’s freaking eight. And just as socially awkward as I was but in a completely different way. I was always tall for my age. Like her; I busted into women’s shoes by the time I turned eight. I wore my purple Nikes with pride. They were my first real shoes that weren’t Keds.
I was a tom-boy. I’d rather throw a baseball with my dad than play Barbies. My daughter is more picky about her clothes but just as imaginative as I was with Legos.
We both love to run. I’ve been very lucky to share a few runs with her. We’ve run Girls on the Run twice as a team. I watch as she gets all prettied up and participates in the various pre-race activities.
Then we run. For us, it’s an adventure, no personal record attached. Though I must admit, I enjoyed it at the end of our last race together when she asked me if I wanted her to beat the girls in front of her.
I probably don’t tell her enough how awesome she is. It’s hard to when you have lots of boys around.
So this weekend, I’m going to carb-load with vanilla cake with sprinkles. Then I’ll run my metric marathon. And I’ll take my pink and purple flower from our last race together, so she can go on the big adventure with me in sprit.
Happy birthday, princess.