The cake icing isn't finished yet, so till then here's a photo of last year's cake, which you can probably tell is on the Hunger Games theme.
There's lots of killing in the Hunger Games too of course, so you might be getting the idea my daughter is a vicious beast. She's not. She might kill me (metaphorically of course) for writing this, but she's sweet and lovely. She's considerate and caring. And how can I let a birthday go by without expressing my thankfulness for having her in my life? She's intelligent, thoughtful, determined, works hard at school. Even though they sometimes fight, she loves her little (but taller than her) sister. When she was six she badgered me into having a charity bake sale and we raised £100 which we split between the school charity and Bliss, a charity that supports premature babies. (She chose Bliss because her sister was born very premature.) She's already written three novels and she designed the cover for mine. She also created the picture for the hostage series on this blog and she's designed a book cover for another writer.
But I loved her long before I knew she could do any of those things. I loved her the moment I first saw her, and even before. I loved her through years of recurrent illnesses, including the year she missed school almost as often as she was there. She's coped with failure too - when those recurrent illnesses meant she had to let go of dreams of being a champion swimmer. (She let go of those more easily than I did.)
My road to motherhood wasn't easy, so I was what's known as a 'elderly prima gravida' or a 'geriatric mother.' That makes me sound like I was a hundred and five, but it's used for any mother over thirty-five. I am so thankful I didn't let the scare stories about being an older mother put me off. I am so thankful for both my daughters.
I loved when my girls were little and sometimes do feel nostalgic for those days. But there's much to be thankful for with teenagers too -
- that on the day of the party, I don't have to tidy up because they are old enough to do it themselves.
- that they are not embarrassed to be seen in public with me or with their dad!
- that they are still willing and happy to visit their grandparents, and that they understand my mother needs more visits now my dad is gone.
- that they can help out when we visit.
- they understood my sadness when my dad died and were considerate (most of the time.)
- that sometimes when I can't be bothered to cook, they do it.
- that I can have intelligent conversations with my kids about all sorts of things including feminism, books and the meaning of life!
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