my middle daughter, meg, turns 21 today. born on the cusp of cancer and leo, if her inner nature is a struggle between the influences of fire and water, there was never any doubt in meg's mind who she belonged to. blessed with my father's eyes, and my irish grandmother's name, meg is the child i recognized almost at once as being the most like me.
from the very beginning, meg was, as i came to call it, a one-parent child. she never liked my ex - even as a tiny baby, she preferred my oldest daughter and her big brother over her father. and he, of course, responded badly, so badly that by the time she was ten, meg's attitude toward her father had grown from tolerance into active dislike. from the time she was 13, meg refused to have anything to do with him.
her middle name, for those gentle readers who might be wondering, isn't really moo. jamie was not quite two and a half years old when his baby sister was born. when meg was three days old, we ran out of milk and i, with no other recourse, bundled up all three kids and brought them to the grocery store. meg was so tiny she fit lengthwise in the seat of the cart.
a lady stopped to admire the baby, and noticed my son clinging to the cart. what's your sister's name, she asked.
meggie moo, jamie said, beaming from ear to ear. he was little and blond and positively beatific... a tarnished little cherub brought to life.
meggie sue? asked the lady with a puzzled look.
no, jamie bellowed. he might've been only two, but despite his age and angelic appearance, he had a bellow like a bull. meggie MOO - you know.. like the cow says MOO?
and meggie moo she has remained.
happy birthday, meggie moo, from the mommy who loves you more than enough for two.