eight

This past week we celebrated the eighth birthday of our beloved little Sunshine. Our first little babe to be born at home. At the time, home was an apartment with one bedroom shared by the four of us at night and one bedroom which served as office and play room while music lessons went on downstairs. The Professor was in the final months of his doctoral work and lulled little Sunshine to sleep many an afternoon with the click, click, click of the (computer) keyboard keys as he worked intently on his thesis.

Unfortunately as we eagerly neared her birthday this past week, there was an unexpected turn of events. An intruder. The Flu came to our home. In fact, the birthday girl went down first. Fever and exhaustion kept her perched mutely on the couch all of Tuesday-her long awaited day. And others were starting to drop as well.

So we celebrated birth-week.




Tuesday night, there were presents and little bowls of ice cream (no one ate more than a few spoonfuls).





Wednesday morning I knew Sunshine must be feeling better when she bounded into my room with the news that she would be ready for birthday cake that day. (Not everyone was. Rosebud snuck up to bed that night before we even unveiled the cake. We saved her a piece.)


And now she is ready to go out for that fried catfish dinner she'd been wanting. Well we are going to wait until everyone is really feeling well before going for that one.


So, to my darling little ray of sunshine with the sensitive little soul and the boundless energy, the contagious and easy laugh and the passionate heart, I wish you the very happiest of birth-weeks! May it be a joyous, adventerous and blessed year.