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Browsing Tag: birthdays

At Seven, A Name That Fits

She turned seven a couple of weeks ago, our Mighty, and I’ve been thinking about what I’d say about her ever since. Her interests haven’t changed all that much since last year. She still loves butterflies, and horses, and riding her bike. There’s some stuff that’s new: she started playing soccer this spring and was awesome to watch. She learned how to really read this year, and you know as well as I do there’s no better sight than seeing your own child curled up in a chair with a book. She isn’t as afraid anymore, and that’s the thing, I think. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. Here’s what I find funny: Quinlan said earlier this year that she didn’t like her name, which isn’t funny at all, really, especially when you know that I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying that if she’d just stuck with Quinn like we’d wanted to call her, maybe she wouldn’t be complaining. Don’t worry. I…

Cian is Four

On the day Cian was born, he stayed awake until just before midnight, only to fall asleep and be woken in the same moment by the sounds of fireworks going off outside the window of our hospital room. It had been a hectic day with a more frenetic night–he nursed constantly, and I was still trying to recover from both the c-section and the new knowledge that the end of my pregnancy could’ve ended catastrophically–it turned out that I had a uterine window so thin that when my doctor opened me up for the delivery she could actually see him through it, waiting for us. I still don’t like to type the words out loud for the memory of the fear it brings with it. But he’s here, playing beside me in his Santa Claus pajamas. A friend of mine gave him a book filled with comic book heroes (“Mom! Is dat I-don Man? He’s a super here-doe!”), and he’s enthralled. He’s incredible, and wicked smart, and talks nonstop, asking questions and giving me answers to questions I didn…

It’s Quinlan

We named her Quinn because we wanted her to be Quinn. Intelligence, the name means. Isn’t that lovely? “Quinlan” was just what we gave her so she’d have something more formal to put on her diplomas (like how I put that in plural? Yeah, I did). She wasn’t supposed to actually use it. But from the time she could speak, our second-born has insisted on being called Quinlan. “What’s your name?” people ask. She breaks into a grin. “QUINLAN.” Queeeeeeen-lin, she pronounces it. That’ll show us. This child. Man, I can’t wait to see how her personality adapts when she’s fourteen, or twenty-four, or when she’s so old she can’t even remember how old she is. She’s so different. And dare I say it? Special. Because this girl is something else. She still sucks her thumb, always when tired, most of the time when she’s upset, and often when she’s bored. The doctors have told us to make her stop, and we halfheartedly try, but it&#8217…