Four Years an Owlet
Four years ago, at 12:40am, the most physically intense moment of my life suddenly released and a life began.
A year later, and I finally had begun to feel like someone’s mother. And that someone had more intensity and goofiness and brilliance and stubbornness than you would ever imagine could lie beneath a rather shy-upon-first-meeting exterior.
Two years old with a maturity absurdly beyond her years… She seemed so grown-up at the time, especially with her baby brother arriving, but looking back, she is hardly out of babyhood.
By age three, her feisty streak was strengthening, fortunately in pace with a strong intellect.
And by this, her fourth birthday, a number of deeply rooted passions have begun to flower; chief among them, reading and music-making.
Happy birthday, dear Owlet!
Her wish is my command — when it comes to birthday cakes, anyway! — vanilla cupcakes with raspberry frosting and bees on top, exactly as requested. I am super proud of those bees — mango purée with Nutella stripes and sliced almond wings.