The sun washed bright and mellow over my long-legged ballerina's birthday party morning. We awoke early, eager to run the last few errands and put the finishing touches on her tea party.
"Ooooo, Connie, I love it!" exclaimed Alice at the bakery upon seeing the special pink bismark with sprinkles made just for her. Connie saves me every birthday. Maybe someday I'll bake a cake.
At home again, we laid the 8 dozen donut holes and strawberries on glass cake stands and rose china platters. A darling - and low mess - tea party fit for a table of tiny ballerinas.
While the mamas chatted over blueberry cobbler cold brew, the girls giggled about, eating and opening presents in equal measure. AND THEN.
Then the ballerina came. Arriving in all her poofy purple grandeur, our ballerina came to teach the girls a few positions and measures much to their delight.
After turning and twirling and hopping about, they eventually fell away into playing before making their farewells.
We polished off the day with our closest friends and family over root beer floats in the golden sunlight streaming through the west windows. Alice's one birthday wish was a tutu that stood up "all by itself." Gramma Alice and Papa Milo fulfilled it. At the end of opening presents, we brought out the peachy pink number with rossettes that stood up "all by itself" and Alice thrilled at seeing her dream come true. She delightedly twirled for us - sometimes gracefully - and then eventually abandoned her interpretive dance in favor of getting dirty with the boys in the garden.
Alice, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. You are imaginative, caring, resourceful, creative, servant-hearted, tenacious, and forgiving. Thank you for being my girl. You make my life infinitely more wonderful.
I love you.