this one's for my girls.

Two very important women in my life have celebrated birthdays within the past seventy-two hours.

Thursday was Cecelia's. Okay, let me back up. It's inaccurate to call it her birthday. Cecelia was a stray cat who was given to me by a stranger I met via facebook. When she came to my apartment three years ago, she had no name or birthday. Ever since, I have celebrated her "birthday" as the anniversary of the day we met. To her though, it was just another day--except I carried her around the apartment giving her love all afternoon (which really annoyed her, she's a pretty independent cat). During my daily writing hour, I became so overwhelmed with love for my first born daughter (err... my first adopted cat), that I wrote her a poem. I read it to her several times. But she was too doped up on catnip to really appreciate it; plus, Cecelia's more of a prose kind of reader anyways. I hate to let good/horrible poetry go to waste, so I figured I'd bring it to my lovely followers. You guys have already wasted a few hours (collectively) reading my blog, so what's another thirty seconds?

Does she know it’s her birthday?

or has she forgotten—

trampling around the house,

like it’s an average Thursday afternoon.

                But I remember.

Three years ago,

she came home with me.

We had to sneak her into the building

so we wouldn’t get caught

Because pets weren’t allowed there.

Happy Birthday, Cecelia—

it’s been a wonderful ride;

You’ve been a darling.

Except when you jump on the counters

after I have cleaned them.

Or when you make muffins on my chest

when I’m drunk in my bed.

That gets nauseating… and quite annoying.

But if it means spending more years with you, Cece,

make as many muffins as you want.

On to my next birthday shout out--and in this case, I have saved the best for last (don't tell Cecelia I said that)... Yesterday was a beautiful day; it was my mother's birthday.

Happy Birthday, Teresa Keirn! You are a beautiful woman who has created/shaped/and bettered my life ever since we first met twenty-two years ago. Sorry mom, I didn't write you a poem. But I'm sure I could free verse something for you now... or at least I'll die trying.

Happy Birthday, Mom

I wouldn't have a birthday

Without your birthday.

There you go, Mama, a haiku!

To avoid all the sap and emotion that could exist in this post; I'll make it short and sweet for you. If you have a mother as wonderful as mine, consider yourself lucky. I can picture her now, resting by the fire in her West Jefferson cabin. It was snowing the night before her birthday, and I'm sure she is cuddled up with a cup of coffee/glass of wine and her dog, Maggie right now. If I could only click my heels and teleport to her side; I could really go for some coffee/wine right about now...

Here's the punchline: I love you both. Happy Birthday.