where's my birthday blog, libby wanted to know.
i couldn't blog about your birthday, i said. i was keeping too many secrets. the trouble with secrets is that you need a really good memory, and the older i get, the more i see the remnants of mine disintegrating. its the reason my blog has been so neglected of late - keeping the secret of meg's room, AND the secret of her early return on libby's birthday - strained my old dendrites to the breaking point.
and really, who expected my kids actually READ their birthday blogs?
it tickled me no end to know at least one of them does.
a few weeks ago, we found a cache of pictures stuffed into an old envelope. i'm not sure where they came from, but when we looked through them, most of them were of libby's birth. there was katie at 13, jamie at 8 and meg, nearly 6 and a half. and libby, of course, tiny and red and wrinkled, and me, glowing with the joy that only a new mother knows.
it tickled me to see how happy i looked, how interested the kids were as they gathered around the newest arrival. it tickled me to see the faces of the old friends who witnessed libby's birth - since all the kids were there, they needed support people of their own. the father, theoretically, was there to support the mother. (and theoretical is the only kind of support the kids and i got from mister ex.)
i think it tickled libby, too.
so happy birthday, libby jo, from the mommy who's glad you showed up.
and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.
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