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Birthday Girl!

January19

brother and sister

Little Hellcat Birdy is nine years old today

How could my four years of high school dragged by so slowly and these nine years have gone by so fast?

I wrote this six years ago, just to give you a glimpse of the little miss growing up:

Baby Bird

So my daughter is three. and stubborn. and not potty trained.

More than anything in the whole wide world she loves ballet and dancers and tutus.

This is not my doing, I played with dump trucks as a young girl; and certainly not her father’s, he specialized in playing chess with himself and tracing the lines on graph paper in his youth. It’s just that we somehow made this little girlie-girl-princess-head and we are amused and enchanted and slightly aghast as she prances around in my pink babydoll nightie from the beginning of our marriage when I still wore such things.

Last Christmas I turned on PBS just in time to catch Julie Andrews introducing the London Ballet’s version of The Nutcracker and I called her over “Hellcat! Come see the ballet!” I thought she’d enjoy the opening scene and I’d be able to turn on Law and Order in time to see Jerry Orbach sum up the plot twist with a glib remark. but no.

An hour and a half later I awakened to the closing strains of Tchaikovsky and an outline of my little daughter sitting about 4 inches from the screen, mouth open, eyes wide. Julie Andrews came back “For many of you this was your first Nutcracker, I do hope it was a magical experience.”

Oh believe me, Julie… it was.

Ok, so I have this little miss in diapers who loves the ballet. What better motivation for potty training is there than lessons for she who keeps her pink princess Barbie panties dry all day? None I tell you, none.

But in appealing to my daughter’s girly and artistic tendencies to achieve underpant dryness, what price will we pay? Will she enter into the Madame Strict’s Ballet Academy at $18,000 per year tuition? Will she wreck her feet and have lifelong back pain? Will she rehearse 18 hours a day, leaving no social life and less academic success? Will she become anorexic and bulimic and pop Mini-thins and Correctol like a cheese-loving-interstate-truckdriver, only to stop menstruating at 14 and smoke Marlborough Lights like a chimney until she is finally told at 22 that she is washed up and should just quit and have babies and tell bitter stories about what she could have been? Will she never learn to count to five???

She chats to me from her car seat in back as we drive. “Mommy, I’m gonna do ballet. And I’m gonna dance in a special skirt called a tutu. And I’m gonna have a hamburger and french fries and a soda for lunch.”

You sure are honey…

So far today she has discovered a birthday-decorated dining room, made chocolate chip pancakes, opened presents (2 new outfits, a new coat, some PC games and My Sims for her DS), put on make up, and tried on all the new clothes (fashion show dahling!). Now we are off to have a family day at the museum and have dinner at her favorite restaurant. I’d say this should kick of age nine perfectly!

Eyes!


One Comment to

“Birthday Girl!”

  1. On January 19th, 2008 at 4:19 pm Jo Jo Says:

    I am tearing up — what a sweet tribute to your lovely growing-up girl. She is surely a special one, and I adore her. Happy Birthday!!!!

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