Birth_Day

Yasmina Antcliff Birth Days I looked out the window at the dark tangle of trees writhing in the sudden July storm as I pulled on a red knit hoodie sweater and reached for the door. Before that day, driving in heavy rain had never bothered me, but something was different. I gave white knuckle driving new meaning as I gripped the sweaty steering wheel, and stared at the road ahead of me. I hadn't brought any of the things that I had carefully packed with me. Those things were just things, and they didn't seem to matter now as I rushed out to the car. I kept thinking, “Today is July thirty first. This is the day.” The soft red pajamas I had lovingly folded and unfolded and folded again in my overnight bag were merely an afterthought in comparison to the tiny soul, blooming in my body. As terrified as I was, I could not wait to meet her. I had envisioned this moment a thousand times, and none of them were close to the awkward reality I found as I parked the car and waddled uncomfortably through the automatic doors at St. Mary's. The next 36 hours were a blur of back breaking labor - when all of the sudden I heard her trembling little cry, and saw her quivering little body. As long as I live I will never forget the moment she was put into my arms, and on August 2, 2006 at 2:07 am I came face to face with the most enchanting creature I've ever met in my life. I have never been religious, but I swear she was all of heaven and all of earth and all at once and I was honored by the privilege of holding her close and the responsibility that was given to me. The word “birthday” means more to me now than it ever has before, and Scarlett's birthday is sacred to me. Just as I did the first time, every year I spend months in preparation of her big day. Little by little, I gather the colorful party decorations and supplies that I cannot afford to buy all at once. All year long, I collect a few special gifts that I believe will spark her curiosity and inspire vivid imagination, and of course just the right birthday dress for my little Scarlett. The night before her birthday, I wait for her to fall asleep and quietly creep to the closet, and my the hidden top secret birthday stash. As part of my mommy ritual, I allow myself the satisfaction of baking her a unique birthday cake by myself the night before her party, and as I fold the ingredients together, I pour my heart and all of my love for her into the batter and I think about the first time I waited for her. I think about the first time I looked into her clear blue eyes – and how they looked back at me. I remember exactly how her delicate pink fingers curled daintily around mine, and did not let go until she fell deeply asleep. On the night before her birthday I can see the soft fine hair that covered her little head and I swear I can even smell her baby smells, like lavender baby powder and Gerber's Grins and Giggles Sweet Pea body lotion, which is no longer sold in stores. I almost believe, that on the night before Scarlett's birthday I have super powers, because I am so reminded of that day, when the most incredible thing of all time happened. I can single handedly prepare a variety of enough delicious food to satiate an army of Scarlett's loved ones, and I can even do it with some flair and a limited budget. And I can even do it all by myself. Notorious for my terrible memory, I often forget what I need by the time I reach the store, but for some reason on that one night, I always seem to remember everything I need. It's always been of paramount importance for me to provide ample opportunity for Scarlett to stimulate her brain with creative projects. I planned a book party for her first birthday and told guests that she already has enough clothes and toys, but what would really mean a lot to us, is if everyone could bring a book to hep me teach her to love reading. On her big day, friends and family got her so many beautiful books we didn't know what to do with them all. Some were new and bright and colorful, with intricate pop outs or textured surfaces to touch. Some were old and very used, which by my standards, is the look of a good book. At the age of three, she now reads many of them from memory. On her second birthday, we invited the people we love to “Scarlett's Super Silly Sock Puppet Extravaganza”, and covered a banquet table with the supplies for us all to make sock puppets. We used socks of all sizes, oddly shaped buttons, brightly colored feathers and yarn, lace, eye catching glitter, good ol' felt, and a lot of sparkly puff paint. In the weeks preceding her birthday, one of Scarlett's grandfathers even carefully constructed a sock puppet theater. Next, I brought it to my dad's house, where he painted and stained it. After that, Scarlett's great-grand father attached a curtain rod, almost completing the project. My grandmother then, sewed the heavy, red material I found, into some very fancy curtains. I will never be able to part with the little stage that all her grandparents had helped to make. A couple months ago, Scarlett had politely requested to have a “bubble festival” on her birthday. I don't have the vocabulary needed to clearly convey how much my heart swelled with maternal pride because that is, quite possibly, the coolest idea ever I ever heard for a birthday party. I plan to make all her birthdays special for as long as I am able, because no matter how much I am able to give her in this life, it will never rival what I have been given.