peevish mama

Photo by Kathy Quirk-Syverstsen

My bubbly little Christmas angel, my wise and funny girl: HAPPY BIRTHDAY. It’s a funny thing to wish someone else a happy birthday, when really, that day, her birth day, has brought me nothing but happiness. In other words, to say Happy Birthday, is more than a wish . . . it’s a fact. Supergirl is nine now and as good of a friend as I could ever ask for. When I went to Lunch Lady Rocker Chick’s birthday party in Madison this fall, some of my friends overheard me talking on the phone with Supergirl from the hotel room. They couldn’t believe I was talking to my kid. Their surprise took me by surprise. She was telling me how the block party was a total bust, how no one showed up, how there was one lonely kid riding his bike back and forth, she laughed and I laughed and it was a moment I wouldn’t have noticed if someone else hadn’t pointed it out. I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s easy to talk to. She’s interested and interesting. And she doesn’t change a thing about herself, whether she’s talking to an adult, a kid, a baby, a dog. She’s just Supergirl, pure and unfiltered, and it has become one of those things I take for granted but that I love so much about her. She is just so . . . true.

Supergirl, of the quirky eye, the big heart and the ever doodling pen. You crack me up, you lift me up, you make the world I live in a much better place. Happy Birthday, sweetness. I. Love. You.