If you’ve been here since the beginning,

you may remember the day when we got this tutu.

And on that day, a day that is now so long ago, I never could have imagined that just over a year later,

that tutu would cause my daughter to lay on the ground, kicking her legs, in a screaming, wailing, red-faced, breath-holding tantrum.

Why?

Because although she demanded I put it on her,

as her new house frock of sorts,

it was literally too tight for me to pull up over her body, so I tried to take it off.

And she wasn’t having it.

Tuuuuuuu (sob, sob, sob) Tuuuuuuu (sob, choke) ONNNNNNNNNNN!

And so, the tears have stopped, this little pink leotard is halfway up her torso, stuck in place,

and my surprise tutu is still surprising me, even now.

Imagine that.

You know you have a girlie girl when…

You know you have a girlie girl when…

She goes to Rosh Hashana dinner with lipstick on her teeth;

She says “gown” instead of down”;

You lose sight of her in the mall and find her here:

You can always spot her in her hiding spots because of her pink, sparkly shoes. (See above.);

She loves to brush her dolly’s hair. And her Sesame characters’ hair. And her own hair. And, this morning, she tried to brush her cup’s “hair”.  And then, I spotted her going towards her giant bouncy ball, waving her hair brush. I had to look away;

Her giant bouncy ball is pink;

She is named for a Disney Princess;

She won’t leave home without her vintage Gucci “Pock-book” and Abby Cadabby;

She sits on my lap, every morning, as I put on makeup, and as I brush and paint, she smells my perfumes and makes faces in the mirror and plays with every potion she can get her hands on;

She almost always refuses to give out high fives, but will show you her shoes every. single. time.;

She cries, hysterically, if I try to change her diaper, but squeals with glee if I try to put her in a tutu;

So, yes, that’s how you know you’ve got a girlie girl…

Or, at the very least, what I know about the girlie girl that I call mine.

On my daughter’s Birthday,

I expected to take her to the zoo. Or to a kiddie theme park. Or to a parade, in her honor.

I expected to dress her in a tutu.

I expected to eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

But, my daughter’s birthday was the day of the first Passover Seder.

So, on my daughter’s birthday, we visited my parents to help them cook for 37 people,

and ended up eating Matzohball soup with my mom and dad, Mommom and Aunt,

while sitting on the floor,

atop an old blanket that was woven by my great-great-Aunt.

All 6 of us, sitting on that old blanket, laughing and loving.

I guess that says it all about the fabric of our family.

Not what I expected out of my daughter’s birthday.

Oh, but we did manage to eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So, I guess it was a little of what I expected. And so much more.