Over the weekend we hosted a birthday party for Sophie.
In my mind, I saw something fabulous. Something Martha Stewart would have envied, featuring clouds of tissue, girls in party frocks, and appetizers speared onto tiny sticks.
Instead it was more like pizza and fizzy drinks, with kids jousting each other like unto the knights of old.
In retrospect, I think the more fabulous version might have been lost on this crowd. I don't think they came for tissue paper pom poms or skewered shrimp. I think they came for the company--to laugh, be awkward, eat, have fun, and do it all over again.
A word about Sophie: every day she becomes more enjoyable in quantum leaps and bounds. She's hitting this stride where I can see she's really observing the world around her...not just the one she's in but the one ahead of her. We often find ourselves alone in the car, driving to and from volleyball practice, and the conversations which ensue are pure...heaven. Just...an opportunity to feel the bond between us, this amazing love which connects us, and for a more developed mother-daughter dynamic to emerge which only expands how I feel about her, how I've felt every day since that blinking, brown-eyed baby came into our lives.
It's hard to write about these feelings without sounding corny. I cringe at the thought of something so wonderful coming across as sappy and lame. Perhaps that's an indication such things should be kept to myself, I don't know.
But Sophie...is awesome. And I think everyone had fun at her party.