We make trip after trip to the store to get the things everyone needs for their various trips next week. Shorts (longs? they must touch the kneecap!), rain gear, flashlights, small toiletries, hiking socks, bowls, sporks, a fan, and two digital cameras for the girls birthdays. They will spend their birthday at camp this year while their daddy and brother are scaling a 12,000 to 14,000 peak in Colorado. And I'll be home with the dogs and the cats.
We've never been apart for their birthdays. We have a tradition... I get up before 6:39 so that I can wake Daughter A before her birth time. She gloats for 35 minutes because she is "a year older" than Daughter B. At 7:14 everyone has been born. They open their presents. I tell them the story of their birth (again). We have breakfast and the day begins. This year the tradition will be foregone for the first time. I'll get up at 4:45 so I can go walk with my friend. I'll come home to a house filled with pets but no family, and I supposed I'll tell Jake and Maddie the birth story when the time comes. I already know how they will react. Jake will lie there and move his eyebrows around. Maddie will look at me expectantly, hoping for some type of treat and perk her ears when I say the word "go" as in "we decided we should GO to the hospital". I hope I'm able to be strong and have a good day. After all, my babies will be having fun at a camp that they love. My husband and son will be getting closer to summit-ing, something they've looked forward to since January. It will still be a day of celebration, just not all of us together. They are really growing up, aren't they?
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