A ninth birthday.

A ninth birthday.

Three times thrice hath winter's rough white wing

Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice

Since [her] birth whose praises love would sing

Three times thrice.

~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

I don't know what it is about Elizabeth's birthday that makes me reflect on so many things: life, her amazing self, parenting in general, my role as a mother. She's my firstborn and only daughter. She is my spirit personified in so many ways, and yet she is a mystery in others. She is fearless, outspoken, adventurous yet cautious, fiesty, persistant, fun-loving and perpetually smiley, much like me. She is also artistic without self-consciousness, unflustered by growing up in a house full of boys, flighty (in that artsy, always-in-her-own-head kind of way) and unafraid to flaunt her own style; traits that are foreign to me and that I appreciate as uniquely Elizabeth.

She is beautiful, in a way that makes me terrified for the teenager-hood that is quickly approaching.

She has an innate appreciation, more so than our other kids, for the things most important in our family: faith, nature, arts.

She lives, breathes, exudes creativity, without even trying.

She is the one who made me a mother, gave me focus during difficult times, inspired me to become the person and mother that all my children need and deserve. She is 9 today.

Happy birthday, Elizabeth!