April showers bring birthday flowers

Five years ago I labored in vain, drifting in and out of sleep and gazing at the steely East River, until finally a scalpel and a pair of gloved hands delivered all nine and a half pounds of you into your father's arms.

Four years ago your grandmother marveled as you ate fistful after chubby fistful of Veggie Booty. We dressed you in pink and green and celebrated with your dearest baby friends.

Three years ago, you celebrated in your new house. Your favorite aunt visited and you rode your first tricycle.

Two years ago, I again labored in vain. Three hours of contractions slowed to a halt as we toured the neighborhood in your new red wagon; the pains returned just after midnight. You wouldn't share your birthday with your little brother after all. The day he was born, you brought yellow-frosted cookies to school and had your first sleepover.

One year ago you celebrated with your big-girl friends and practiced for your first dance recital.

Today you are five. You can sing and dance and write and allllmost read. You are a loving, caring, bossy big sister. You are my big girl but you'll always be my baby.