Happy Birthday to my 9 year old. Daddy calls you my “mini-me.” I call you my “conscience.” Thanks for everything you are and are becoming! You’re a ton of fun and I know if I ever forget the rules, you’ll be there to remind me.
We had a great day today (celebrating her day a day early) – going on an “Amazing Race” adventure – with clues leading her to: Starbucks (well, you have to get Mom and Dad some caffeine if we’re going to really race!), the 26th floor of the Sears Tower to find a friend with a clue, the Adler Planetarium, getting her ears pierced and ending with yummy Giordano’s pizza. (That girl ate three pieces!)
My dad died three years ago on the 18th and my daughter’s birthday is on the 19th. It’s a strange jump from one extreme to another: death to life. And it makes me want to strive to be an even better parent. No, we can’t protect them from the smallest pain of getting ears’ pierced or the bigger pain of dealing with death. But we can give them a hope and a foundation of faith that will carry them through the storm.(Listen to the words of this beautiful song saying it so much better than I could!)