Wherein I reveal that I am truly a geek. But at least my kids are cute.

Angela, at her friend Rusty's birthday party:

Angela: "Happy birthday!"
Rusty: "Happy birthday!
Angela: "Actually, it's not my birthday, but thank you."


Conversation at church:

Angela: "Smell my breath!"
Me, teasing: "Eww!"
Angela: "Now smell me."
I smell her neck and she giggles.
Angela: "Now smell something not on my body."
I pick up her hand and sniff it and she laughs.
Angela: "Nooo! Not on my body! Smell the church."
I breathe in deeply (smelling nothing) and say "Ahh."
Angela: "It smells YUCKY! because I tooted!"

What I've been doing:

• Getting ready for next week! We have family coming in to town for two weeks over the holidays. That means Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations this week. Whew!

• Reading! I've been devouring books lately. And I achieved my goal of finally, finally, finishing Pride and Prejudice.

• Teaching! I have had the opportunity to see fear turned into confidence as women learn about childbirth. In discussions and classes, those who worried about what would happen during birth, avoided learning about it out of fear, and then found out that their fears were exaggerated...it is thrilling. It reminds me that though we often avoid the things we're scared of, we might find, through facing our fears, that they're not nearly as bad as we'd thought. We shouldn't let fear keep us from the truth.

• Feeding my 70's sci-fi appetite! Rob and I have been watching as much of Solaris as we can stand, and I have to say that watching a creepy movie before bedtime helps with the nighttime cuddling.

So, if there was ever a week beyond July 2007 to geek out, this is definitely it.

Five Years

Five years ago, on a peaceful Saturday, you, my first child, my daughter, were born.

Four more minutes and it would have been Sunday.

I remember how you looked around the room and already seemed to know who each person was, as if your time in the womb was spent studying voices and personalities, so that when you were born you were not surprised to see them. It made sense to you.

I remember how hard it was at first to take care of you, to understand what you needed. You were patient, introspective, and beautiful.

By 8 months you were walking. The first letter you knew was Q. You called balloons and fireworks by the same name ("Ball!!").

You stood in front of a mirror and said to yourself, "FWOG! - No, it's a fwog. FWOG! - No, it's a fwog..." You used to call anything you couldn't pronounce "ahi", and four different things were all called "armpit" by you (they were "blanket," "muffin," "ornament," and of course, "armpit").

You used to call yourself "Eddle-bess." Your sister was "Anchua."

You have always loved the outdoors. You have always been an artist.

You told jokes and made up puns as soon as you could speak. I remember you asked me what letter "pea" started with and then laughed when I told you. Then you asked again. And you laughed. And asked again.

At four you taught yourself to read. We stood by and watched, suddenly realizing that our goal of teaching you to read by the end of summer was not ambitious enough. A few weeks after we sat down with you and some books, you were reading to us. We have never been able to keep up with you.

I have always thought of 5 as a HUGE DEAL, and it is. I am so happy to have you in my family. I am so happy you were the first to come to me. I get to raise you and watch you grow. You are precious and I'm so glad I get to take this journey with you. The blank truth is that, no matter how old you get, you will always be my baby.

But you seem much more than 5 years old. You are Elizabeth.

Yes, today means a lot. I want to make today special for you, as much as I can. I want you to realize how deeply you are loved.

Today I celebrate the day you came to us. My world is better, Elizabeth, because you are here. Happy birthday, my love.