Blowing & Drifting

Genevieve had a blast celebrating her fourth birthday at Nonna and Boppa’s house, where most of the extended family also showed up. The best part was either the cake

or the presents

but Vivi was also pretty excited by the fact that she gets “another birfday!” on Sunday, her actual date of birth. Tonight’s bedtime routine consisted largely of me getting her through the various hoops (bath, pajamas, stories) while she talked nonstop about “my reaw birfday.” In the tub, she hurriedly scrubbed herself, suds flying, and shouted, “I gotta wash myself extra good so I’m clean for being four!” Later on, as I tucked her in, she shivered – literally shivered! – with excitement and asked, “So when I wake up in the moaning, I’m just magically four? Just magically?” I nodded. “And I don’t even feel it? I just wake up and I’m four? Oooooh, I can’t wait!”

I love that idea: “feeling” that you’re getting a year old with, say, a jolt of excitement at the exact time you were born. That Vivi won’t have such an experience will not damper the fun tomorrow.