Emma basking in the glow of her blueberry birthday cake.
Yes, I made the cake.
Sweet Emma turns 19 today, but we celebrated her special day last weekend at her Grandparent's house since she's away at college.
Today is the real date, the annual anniversary of her long tough labor. She was born with a purple bruised face and a cone shaped head thanks to the Hoover type suction device the Doc used to grip her little punkin head.
It was all a bit shocking and worrisome to a young father, but everyone said, "Don't worry, the purple bruising will subside and her pointy little head will smooth out in a week or so."
After a week, the little plastic rings I had been secretly tossing at her head when Mrs. FC wasn't looking, would no longer stick to her now smoothly rounded head.
Emma had other entertainments in store for us though.
Wowsers ... I fully expected her head to spin around and ancient Latin curses to issue from her mouth.
Her sister Katie was 15 months old at the time and once Emma finally quieted and was napping, we would creep around as if on eggshells, trying desperately not to wake her prematurely.
Then, suddenly we were past it. The colic was over ... we had survived.
The rest has been a splendid adventure. She's smart, adventurous, loving, and well, ... beautiful.
So now my baby girl, my middle child, is having her first birthday away from home.
The danger is that it might seem like just another day, but it's not ... not for those of us who love her.
We'll be thinking of her all day and wishing her happy birthday by all electronic means possible. Electrons and bits of data are poor substitutes for real hugs of course, but I'm thinking her best friend roommate, and her other dorm buddies will have an abundance of the real thing for Emma.
Happy Birthday Emma!
We love you.