Of Birthdays and Love

She wasn't Lianna for long

How. Friggin. Cute.

Today I celebrate 26 years of joy.  What does one say about Katie… Born Lianna Caitlin after a hella long night in 1991, after, in fact, a hella long summer (I strongly advise NOT getting pregnant in December if your summers are hot and humid), a 7 lb. 7.5 oz. bundle of pure joy.  Lianna was my second choice. She would have been Brianna but, you know, that was just too Irish. And for what it's worth, I never even picked out a boys name, so sure was I.  I settled for Caitlin being her middle name just to get my Eire in there. 

With her Uncle Warren

And at two days old, on meeting her Uncle Warren, she was christened Katie forevermore. “We’ll call her Katie,” he said, “we need a Katie in the family.”  (consider yourself very lucky he said Katie, and not Kitty, after our paternal grandmother). Oh. Well ok.  To anyone who is baffled when they hear me call her Katie, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. We have issues with name confusion in my family. It’s tradition. My name isn’t really Tess, but that’s a story for another day. At the risk of sounding cliché, she was actually a good baby. And she spent at least two years attached to my hip. I’m not quite sure the separation is complete even now.  This kid started out so shy, so quiet, so damn adorable. She didn’t  often speak up, speak out, defend herself. I know!  Hard to believe for anyone who knows her now, right??  I have always encouraged her to be herself, to fight for what she believes in, to do what makes her happy. I distinctly remember the conversation about what to do when she grew up. “I don’t care if you flip burgers in McDonalds, if that’s what makes you happy. “ Well, she flipped cheesesteaks and grilled sandwiches and manages a cheese and spice market and private chefs  instead, but dammit, she’s happy. That’s. All. That. Matters.  And I have never been able to, still cannot to this day, resist the quiver chin. That’s the official name of it. The quivering of her chin that warns of heartbreaking tears not far away. She has done it since she was like a year and a half old. And still does. It’s friggin adorable. Why do I do what I do for this kid? Because I would do anything to see that contagious smile, pure joy, again.  (Sorry, Katie, I am dutybound to embarrass you. It’s my maternal right.)

 I’m not sure what happened to that shy kid.  She grew into a beautiful young lady, with a husband (who I grudgingly accept as family, since, you know, we’re kind of stuck with him now, and if he’s man enough to love my kid with all her quirks, well then, that’s enough for me. We won’t discuss the fact that he drives a Ford), a four legged furbaby, a home, and a good life. She’s found her voice, has, somewhere along the way, learned to speak out for what she believes, speak out for the injustices of the world, for equality.  She has learned responsibility and love and compassion. Her heart breaks for those not so fortunate, for people she does not even, and may never, know, and for those she does know.  

Sure, she has a dark sense of humour, a sarcastic streak (I take total credit for that. You’re welcome) but it’s what gets us through some dark times. In our family, there have been many dark times. 

We have had our disagreements, our bad times. There were times when divorce was going on and she hated me mostly, perfectly normal. I accept that, and I forgave her long ago.  There was that time that we didn’t speak for like 3 months, or 36 years, or whatever it was. But this bond runs deeper than that. We have truly become best friends in her old age. Yes I will mention Gilmore Girls because she is my Rory, I am her Lorelei.  I finish her sentences, at times there’s just no point talking because we both know how the conversation is gonna go. We have that thing, that thing where we can have a conversation, back and forth and no one listening has any clue what the hell we just said, but we know that we have just solved a major crisis.  When we order Chinese, it's half the menu, enough to feed a small army. She introduces me to new alternative music, I brought her up with classic rock. We went to the Muse concert, and we will go to see Patti Smith in Central Park. It’s what we do. Overnights in the city, road trips to New England, there is no better traveling partner (SO’s aside, of course).  She gets an itch for a road trip, my response is where to and whose Jeep should we take.  She has a bad week,  I tell her I’ve got cornstarch pudding – it’s one of her comfort foods. Holiday dinners,

Born decades too late...retrogirl.

my kitchen,  she cooks, I assist. And do the desserts. Because chefs don’t bake.  She gets an itch for a tattoo, I fire up Photoshop and ask her what she wants.

I’m not sure how I got so lucky, to have this kid in my life, but I do know that she has made my life better and possibly more interesting. I am quite sure I would be lost if she hadn't been here. She is not afraid to tell me when I'm wrong, to appreciate me when I'm right about her being wrong. She has been a challenge, a comfort, confidante, partner in crime, defender. She is, always will be my Katie, beautiful child, beautiful young lady, my best friend. 
Happy birthday to you, my baby, may your day be filled with love, life, laughter and happiness. And Lady Gaga at Citifield,  weather permitting. Perhaps for this one year, any random storm threats of the hurricane season will pass your birthday by.  Love you to the moon and back always <3
PS: this is payback for the HUGE oversized Mothers Day card that you actually FILLED with your tiny writing. I win.

Child of Mine ~ Carole King

Yup, that's my pride and joy right there!