Five

Today my sweet firstborn is five. I love S-phie's birthday because I think back to the day she was born and replay every minute of it in my mind. The moment they handed her to me, all cheesy and bloody and wide-eyed, was the single happiest moment of my life. That moment was so magical, so transcedent, that it has sustained me ever since. I think it gave me enough happiness to last me the rest of my life. And it was only the beginning of many more magical moments, of falling deeper and deeper in love with this girl over and over and over.

It's especially sweet this year because she has been really sick lately - running a fever for 15+ days and counting, w/no explanation for most of those days and w/glands as big as, dare I say it, golfballs. Even the doctors were starting to worry. But, alas, she just has CMV, which is basically a form of mono and she'll be fine. Even though I don't love Jesus, I do love Anne Lamott, and I've been saying her favorite prayers, "help me help me help me," and now, luckily, "Thank you thank you thank you."

Happy Birthday, my big girl.