This weekend, we celebrated Bella’s 9th (very belated) birthday. 83 belated days to be exact (not that she was keeping track or anything). It was to be a simple gathering with just her closest school friends. A little craft, some ice cream, pizza and maybe a little Karaoke.
And though I am often made fun of for not being able to ‘keep things simple’, I realize that this is the way I was formed. Whether my creativity is nature from my dad or nurtured by my mom, my most inner being feels happier when I create.
Bella was assigned the task of naming the ‘paint’ colours in these cute little buckets. This one is ‘purple wurple’, but there is also ‘green energy’, ‘falling star yellow’, ‘little bow pink’ and ‘blustery blue’.
But even though I get the credit for putting it all together and am the self proclaimed ‘artistic director’, I could never pull it off without the help of my beautiful family.
My mom always makes beautiful cakes and she even surprised me by making these gorgeous cupcakes. My mom’s gifts have never been about price, brand or trend. Her gifts to us require sacrificing her time, creating with her own hands and doing it with love each and every time. I am so blessed to call her mami.
My little sister, who with a smile on her face, will always lend a helping hand, no matter how boring the task. And of course my sweet hubby, who can go from wearing a suit and tie speaking executive lingo to millionaires, to being the silliest and funniest daddy in the world, making a little girl’s heart smile as her friends laugh along with his crazy jokes.
It’s moments like these that I find myself without words to express the gratefulness my heart feels.
But beyond all of the decorations and pretty colours, there was something even more beautiful that happened that day. As Bella’s friends left and our family was once again alone, we opened her gifts. The cards – some bought, some hand-drawn – all contained sweet little girly pictures depicting childhood innocence. But one card especially touched our heart as it read:
“Dear Isabella, thank you for liking me all these days and for standing up for me and I am
so proud to be able to call you my friend.”
It was written by a little girl who was relatively new to the school and – as Bella later explained – had not been initially accepted by the other children, but teased and made fun of. It brings happiness to my heart knowing our little girl didn’t succumb to peer pressure, but had learned compassion and was able to stand for those who were being mistreated. Of all the memories from Bella’s 9th birthday (and 83 days), this will be the fondest memory of a proud momma.
Thank you for allowing me to share a little bit of my life with you.