BFFs
In preparation for Miss Claire's seventh birthday (arriving next week) I dove into the Nie Nie archives for sentiments of her past few celebrations. There was the one with the big fudgy chocolate cake and the one with the even bigger fudgier chocolate cake and then there is the one where I arrived as a special visitor, Mrs. Bones:
I mean, who needs fudgy chocolate cake anyway?
I stared for awhile at the picture of me as Mrs. Bones (a character from a story Stephanie created for bedtime story telling) trying to decide if I am really working the black wig, and what it would really be like to have a pet owl. Then I read the rest of the birthday post. Steph wrote five things that she loved about her firstborn. She's a good student, she is a good helper, she has pretty black hair. But the last one read:
Reading that post popped another thought into my crowded head. There is a missing friend in Claire's life, her mother. And I couldn't help but feel that it was a double hit to this darling little girl who is about to turn into seven.
Claire has her mother's eyes, freckles and pretty black hair. She also inherited her mother's creativity and curiosity for adventure. They are both romantics who tend to make more emotion out of a simple situation. And sometimes when Claire and I laugh it is at the same expense that Stephanie and I would find funny.
Claire was born to a young mother. Stephanie was full of opinions on child-raising, most of them whimsical in nature. The combination of a day-dreaming mother and a propensity for imagination made Claire downright irresistible. She may be one of the most adorable kids in the market today.
And very brave too.
I know how proud Stephanie is of who Claire is turning out to be. I know Claire is proud to be Stephanie's daughter ("I'm famous, you know, because of my mom." she tells me). And never before should they be more proud of one another. These two best friends.
With all of these thoughts having nowhere to go, but to keep me up late, I went to Claire's room. She was sleeping all wrapped up next to Jane. I sat on her bed and talked to her as she snoozed. I told her that her mother was slowly waking up. That everyday her mother comes back into mortality where she belongs. That perhaps her wish of wanting to speak to her mother by Halloween just might come true.
And of course, old Mrs. Bones will always be here.
Just in case.
I mean, who needs fudgy chocolate cake anyway?
I stared for awhile at the picture of me as Mrs. Bones (a character from a story Stephanie created for bedtime story telling) trying to decide if I am really working the black wig, and what it would really be like to have a pet owl. Then I read the rest of the birthday post. Steph wrote five things that she loved about her firstborn. She's a good student, she is a good helper, she has pretty black hair. But the last one read:
I love Claire because she is my best friend and she and I can laugh and laugh at the same things.
Reading that post popped another thought into my crowded head. There is a missing friend in Claire's life, her mother. And I couldn't help but feel that it was a double hit to this darling little girl who is about to turn into seven.
Claire has her mother's eyes, freckles and pretty black hair. She also inherited her mother's creativity and curiosity for adventure. They are both romantics who tend to make more emotion out of a simple situation. And sometimes when Claire and I laugh it is at the same expense that Stephanie and I would find funny.
Claire was born to a young mother. Stephanie was full of opinions on child-raising, most of them whimsical in nature. The combination of a day-dreaming mother and a propensity for imagination made Claire downright irresistible. She may be one of the most adorable kids in the market today.
And very brave too.
I know how proud Stephanie is of who Claire is turning out to be. I know Claire is proud to be Stephanie's daughter ("I'm famous, you know, because of my mom." she tells me). And never before should they be more proud of one another. These two best friends.
With all of these thoughts having nowhere to go, but to keep me up late, I went to Claire's room. She was sleeping all wrapped up next to Jane. I sat on her bed and talked to her as she snoozed. I told her that her mother was slowly waking up. That everyday her mother comes back into mortality where she belongs. That perhaps her wish of wanting to speak to her mother by Halloween just might come true.
And of course, old Mrs. Bones will always be here.
Just in case.