Today my little Miracle is four years old! I don’t know how it’s been that long already. The weather is miserable and soggy and muddy, but at least it isn’t as bad as it was four years ago on the fateful day. The snow was so deep that year I had to stomp down paths for the sheep to be able to walk.
“Nevermind walking, we’re just going to stay inside until this goes away!”
She may be a stately grown-up ewe now, but my mental image of her will always be the wobbly baby mouthing at my fingers and learning to take her first steps on our tile floors.
“It’s cold! Where’s my sweater?”
“That’s better! Now I’m tired! And I’m hungry! Pick me up! Feed me!”
She’s still demanding and a tad spoiled, but she actually has gotten a little less high maintenance now that she’s grown. Maybe. Or maybe it’s just because she isn’t in the house to demand things full time anymore so I get breaks. And she grows her own sweaters now.
Even though it’s so rainy and gloomy outside, I went out in the rain to take birthday pictures and give her birthday treats.
“I’m coming for my birthday treats, but I want you to know I’m not happy about all this rain!”
Danny saw my hand go into the Magic Food Pocket and decided to horn in, which Mira did not approve of at all.
“You have crunchies?”
“Um, excuse me, those are MY birthday crunchies, who said you could have any?”
And then as if things weren’t bad enough, Angel had to join the party.
“All the crunchies are mine!”
“Well if you’re going to pay attention to all these interlopers, I might as well not come at all!”
Despite Mira’s sulking, everyone gathered up by the barn and we had a nice little soggy rainy party. Mira’s the only birthday girl I know of to be upset because too many people came to her party.
“Who invited all these people to my party??”
“I know I didn’t invite them. Stupid gatecrashers.”
Finally I pretended to be out of treats long enough for everyone else to move off, so Mira could have all my attention and the last of the treats to herself.
“I thought they’d never leave!”
There’s nothing better than crouching in the mud getting rained on while a wet, cold four-year-old birthday girl shoves into your lap. It might seem unpleasant, but my lap has been her spot ever since she was a wet, cold little newborn lamb, and I’m happy to have her in my lap as long as she wants to sit in it.
Happy fourth birthday, Miss Miracle, and many happy returns!