Genoa turned seven last week. I still can't believe it.
All she wanted for her birthday was to get her ears pierced. She's been begging me for MONTHS and the minute her Dad gave us the okay, we went to the highly HIGHLY recommended Nomad Piercing Studio since he's notoriously good at working with children. (NO MALL SHIT signs are EVERYWHERE, god love him.)
Of course, the little lady insisted I get pierced first and since we all know my policy (YES!), I did. film by Alexander Del Buono, age 9:
She was up next, and not the least bit excited AT ALL. I had been worried Genoa would take one look at Papa Nomad and freak out, but I told her that no one in town is better at piercing children (the truth!) and she was game.
I was so proud of her. Not a single complaint then or since.
Afterwards we had The People over for Kraft Mac N Cheese and chocolate cake with sprinkles. (Menu by Genoa Del Buono, age 7). Terry made her a bipolar ugly doll, which is pretty much the best thing ever.
Sad on one side:
And let's be honest while we're at it, MY DAUGHTER IS THE CUTEST ONE OF ALL. She could not possibly be more adorable. Smart as a whip, personality coming out her ears, and more sensitive and kind than I can even fathom. (Today she cried and cried despairing over whether to give her best friend, Sydney, a birthday party invitation because she knows Syndey is a Jehovah's Witness and won't be able to come, but she didn't want to make Sydney feel bad for not getting an invitation OR for getting one and not being able to come. It was the worst possible dilemma because all she really wanted was to be with her friend. So sad.).
I know I wanted all boys, but thank you - THANK YOU - universe for giving me this magical girl child. Every time I see her, my heart gets bigger.
Of course, it wouldn't have been a birthday if there wasn't a chance for her to put a post-it note on mom. I picked her up from her dad's on Sunday for a trip down to Anatomy Tattoo to see Lucky. She scrawled "Laugh" a few times and then I had her film the whole tattoo from beginning to end. Two minutes, thirty seconds of TORTURE:
But Lucky was quick and now I have matching(ish) wrists:
Lucky told me most people have wrist tattoos written the other direction, so other people can read them. But hell no! These are for me - forever reminders of what my children are here to teach me (if I listen) (and lighten the fuck up).
Happy Birthday, Benoa. Even when you're 37, you'll always be my baby.