It is a known and probably medically documented fact that throughout my premature labor with Rachel, I repeatedly expressed my fervent desire for my children to be at least a full year apart. Rachel had her own plans and was born a little over two weeks before her big sister's first birthday. Thus began the most unpleasant of our family traditions: The Sixteen Days of Injustice. Wherein Anna laments loudly and often about how terrible - indeed painful - it is to have a sister who has the nerve to be the same age. Observance of this period involves whining, backtalk and general crankiness. There is no cure or effective treatment. We just have to wait until the storm breaks every year on December first.
Anna turned six. SIX. And she talks about Rachel having nerve. As we left the house in the morning we walked outside into the first snow of the year. Fat snowflakes fell onto Anna's excited face as she declared that Hashem was celebrating her birthday too.
After school Rachel went to Grandma's house so that I could pick Anna up without her pesky little sister. We went to three different stores to find her the right pillow pet, then hung out at home together. First she put on some makeup.
Then we washed it off. Except for the lipstick of course.
Then she agreed to pose for me like a six-year-old.
Then she got silly outside with the snow and Sienna, her new pillow pet.
Then it was off to Grandma's house for the party. She asked that Grandma make her birthday cake and she wouldn't say what kind of cake she wanted. "Surprise me," she told my mom.
Family favorite Heath bar cake! Perfect.
And finally, she threw Mommy the "put the camera away, woman!" look, signaling an end to the festivities.
Throughout the day Anna commented several times that she didn't feel different. She didn't want to feel different but she didn't feel six yet and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. "It's just a really complicated and confusing thing," she told me.
Welcome to life, kid! Happy birthday Anna.
