To my daughter on her eight birthday, give or take a day or two

Dear Noa:

Happy Birthday baby doll. Eight years old. How on Earth did that happen?

You already know all the stories because there is nothing else you'd rather talk about than yourself. (1) You know how you were born less than an hour after we arrived at the hospital. How you were the easiest baby but the most impossible toddler. How you didn't say a word until you were two. How you ate literally nothing but chicken for years.

Here's something I bet you didn't know. You were a surprise. Actually surprise isn't even a strong enough word, let me check a thesaurus. A shock. A bombshell. When you're thirteen (2) and we discuss all the facts of life, Mommy can fill you in on three different kinds of birth control she knows for a fact do not work. (3)

But as much as Mommy hates to quote Roseanne Barr, she did say it best. "A surprise was something you didn't even know you wanted until you got it."

I was already a Mommy, but you made me step up my game. Motherhood is way more than feeding and clothing a child. Discovering what made you tick was a full-time job. (4) Answering your questions was the part-time job I had to take after I already worked my full-time job. Like this guy I knew once who was a lawyer all day and a pharmacist on weekends. Exhausting.

But totally worth it.

Happy Birthday Noa. I love you.


1) Your mother's daughter through and through.
2) Is that when we do it? Cause I know Daddy would like you to be thirty.
3) On the bright side when you don't figure out why you're nauseous and have to pee constantly until almost ten weeks along, the next thirty go by pretty quick.
4) Except I'd totally be fired by now cause I do not have a CLUE.