Today is my Birthday.

Yesterday I was toasted by a handful of my nearest and dearest and given a composter (thanks, y'all!). Today, I received a staghorn fern from my in-laws (photos coming), a non-enormous bathrobe from my parents (yay), and tickets to see David Sedaris read here in October from my husband. So far, 32 is spoiling me.

We also took our very first post-bird camping trip over the weekend, which turned out really nicely. Hot, to be sure, but fun. Bird was a trooper, as always. There will definitely be more of that in our future. I mean, look how cozy they are in that little tent? You totally can't tell it was 600 degrees in there.

Vacation Thought No. 11

My mom is a born Granny. She’s a really wonderful mom, too, first and foremost. But Granny-ing is where it’s at for her. She and Bird make each other so happy that I don’t mind when she lets her put lip gloss all over her face or feeds her a thousand Fig Newtons for lunch. Because most of the time, she’s careful to respect our parenting, and all of the time, she respects Bird for the awesome human she is. No baby talk, no obnoxious permissions (the perfect storm for a wicked tantrum), no spoiling with presents. Just the pure and loving one-on-one attention that makes really, really good buddies. I have a lot to learn from Mom about letting Bird lead me when I can, about setting my laundry-folding or dinner-making agenda aside, about climbing into her world and being more present with her. I’m so proud of both of them. Together, they inspire me to be a better mama.

Vacation Thought No. 10

I was invited and un-invited to Bird’s birthday party about seventy-two times during the week of vacation. She also told my family that “After my birthday, I will have a SISTER.”

So yeah, we’ll see about that. Kind of a big gift.

Vacation Thought No. 9

We used my brother and sister-in-law’s new house in North Carolina as an overnight layover in our travels. They have a lovely wooden chess set on their living room coffee table, as well as a perfectly Bird-sized dog, the largest ottoman known to man, cold diet cokes in the fridge, the biggest master bath I’ve ever showered in, a seven-thousand pound cat with a tiny mustache and many, many catalogs.

In Bird-land, that chess set became an irresistible tray with drinks on it. She carefully arranged them on the board and spent a lot of her time by herself, serving them in an orderly fashion on the floor, assigning them to imaginary friends ( the great Venture Adivans) and friends back home at daycare.

A few hours before we left for our final flight home, Bird tripped on the rug while she was arranging her drinks and made fierce contact with the edge of the coffee table, right between her eyes. It was a nasty fall, and afterwards she got clammy and quiet and really, really sleepy. We all worried. All of my mama senses overflowed with the primitive desire to hold her very, very tightly or even absorb her back in my body somehow. I felt like throwing up.

The medical advice we sought told us not to worry, and sure enough she snapped out of it on her own in about twenty minutes with a huge bruise in the middle of her forehead that has now faded to bright yellow. I’m so thankful she’s okay, and also so thankful for bangs.

Vacation Thought No. 8

What a two-year old girl will say at bedtime when there is an air mattress on the floor:

Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? MAMA!!! MAAAAMMMMAAAA! Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay? Watch this, okay?

And then she will jump. Once.

Vacation Thought No. 7

Bird is an early riser. Fortunately, so is my family. My brother jogs most mornings before even Bird is stirring, my dad wakes up bright and early to open and slam every conceivable cabinet door and drawer in the kitchen, like a wild and ravenous grizzly bear foraging for some Egg Beaters and a cinnamon-raisin bagel. My mom pads around like a little ray of sunshine. My husband and my sister-in-law are adjusting to this early-bird way of life, and they are accepting and mostly pleasant about it.

Bird managed to beat everyone to the wake-up once during the week, so she and I took a special walk to the beach and sat on the hard sand to watch the tide roll out in the quiet. We walked a little, spotted a few early-morning dog walkers, seagulls, washed-up jellyfish. It couldn’t have been a more beautiful and perfect scene, mama and birdy enjoying the ocean and filling up with peace in the early morning.

And once we’d reached that mother-child beach nirvana, we held it for a few exquisite moments and promptly began a quick decent into madness, with Bird brewing up a wicked tantrum about a few grains of sand on her leg – after sitting in sand up to her waist all afternoon the day before and loving every minute of it, with sand in her swim suit and hair and EARS for the love of God-- and me grabbing her hand and saying things through clenched teeth like, “We are having a REALLY NICE TIME ON THE BEACH, Birdy, and your whining is DRIVING ME BANANAS. We are going to WALK in the WAVES because it is FUN.” You know, because it is up to me to tell her what she enjoys and our moment together is all about ME and my picture-perfect moment of mother and child harmony. And it is totally appropriate to art-direct special moments with a toddler. I left the beach with a screaming, kicking toddler under my arm. It was a beautiful morning and I will always treasure the memories.

Vacation Thought No. 6.5

Bird was drawing with a fat red crayon before our first flight took off.

“What are you drawing, Bird?”

“A corn pipe.”

Naturally.

Vacation Thought No. 6

My parents bought a special, slightly miniature beach chair for Bird. It was red. She thought it was totally the bees’ knees. (BTW, when I use that expression with her, she looks at her knees with alarm). She spent the majority of her indoor hours putting her babies in time out in a corner and then sitting in it with her legs crossed like a lady and her back to the offender. Or sitting in it with one of my dad’s giant cop-style flashlights, waving it around and having long conversations with nobody, like she was a guest on Invisible Letterman. Or standing up and singing loudly out of the stray detective paperbacks that come with a rented beach house, pretending to be in church.

Vacation Thought No. 5

I learned that my newly suburban brother is capable of a full and informed discussion on the nuances that separate Crate & Barrel from Pottery Barn.

Vacation Thought No. 4

Dad likes long walks on the beach. On Vacation, he takes off nearly every day alone (though sometimes with my Mom), his big tall white self moving along, swinging those big arms the way he does, big gentle grin tilted up at the sky, like he’s always giving thanks. This arm-swinging, glory-giving walk is so distinctive we can pick him out even when he’s far away, even when he’s strolling through the crowds of people way down the beach around the resorts. He’ll stop a few times and just walk into the ocean until he’s about shoulder-deep, sometimes float on his back for a while out there all alone.

I think about him more tenderly after certain events: his heart attack when I was in college, his scare with the big C this winter and my Granddad’s death this spring. And I think this is what it will be like when he leaves this world, just getting up from his chair and walking toward wherever he’s led in gratitude.

Vacation Thought No. 3

If you were on any of our flights, you may have heard:

Bird’s Lyrics to “Frosty the Snowman”

Fros-ty the snowman!

Was a very joyold soooooul

With a corn-cob pipe and a button nose

And a corn made out of piiiiipe…

.

Vacation Thought No. 2

It was stingray season at the beach. Did you know there was such a thing? Well, ‘tis the season for big giant sheets with mouths in the middle to slink past you in knee-deep water and whack a poisonous barb at your ankle.

Really, I do love the stingrays. They’re graceful and beautiful and alien, their mouths look smiley and they’re really just a gentle thing looking for little fishies to gobble. They just happen to have this unfortunate Wand of Intense Pain hanging off of their backsides.

We saw a big pack of them flopping around right where the waves were breaking. Their corners flipped up and looked like darty, spooky fins cutting the waves, and tricked us into thinking we were standing ankle-deep in shark-infested waters. It was just the type of nature drama we are thrilled to report when we encounter wildlife found outside of the state of Indiana.

Vacation Thought No. 1

Can I brag for a minute? My Bird—THE Bird—was the best little traveler on our trip to Hilton Head last week. Three flights, ten total hours in the car, three different beds and a week in a beach house with six adults and no kids to play with and precious few toys and still. She was chipper and good-natured and cooperative. (Only one true meltdown and one major injury, both of which I will describe later.) She pee-peed in the scary/ stinky airplane potty and was perfectly happy to entertain herself with shells and toys when she needed quiet time in the house. She lavished attention right back at my parents and my brother and sister-in-law and was sweet and delicious and funny. She asked to be excused from the table, used her inside voice, and threw please and thank you around like a raquetball.

Not that two-year-olds should be held to adult standards or manners as a measure of good behavior. It’s not like I have a buttoned-up Yes-Ma’am kid. She’s a spirited little bird and a powerful little joy-force that may or may not be wearing clothes at any given moment. But she is so agreeable, so generous, so thoughtful and of such a pleasant disposition. She’s so much fun to be around, and I am more grateful than I can describe to have had a full, uninterrupted week of her silly, loving company.