Dearest Lucy,
How vividly I remember the morning you were born. I was at your home in Atlanta with your then three year old brother Jack. When I got you that organic cotton onesie with a matching hat with bear ears, he wanted one too. I did my best to explain that those hats were for a teeny, tiny baby, and that I would get him something else. He was not a happy camper to learn that never again would he be an only child.
In just a few days, you will celebrate your sixth birthday with your family, now living in Mountain View, California. I am amazed to see how much Jack loves you and you, him. Yesterday when he and I were reading together on FaceTime, he couldn’t resist telling me about the gifts he had gotten you with his own money: a xylophone and a set of bongo drums. “I’ll also be making something for Lucy,” he told me.
In late June, when it was Jack’s birthday, you were bursting with pride as you showed me what you had given your big brother, a piece of equipment for one of his many electronic games. By the way, when that latest game came into the house, Mama made a point of keeping a close eye on Jack, lest he get too much screen time.
Little did she know that it was you whose screen time she would need to limit. Apparently you are quite the electronic games aficionado, and proficient too. Daddy has observed that your moves reflect a keen grasp of strategy.
It’s been a tough six months, what with Covid-19 forcing you into online schooling. Only recently have you met friends (one at a time, keeping your distance and wearing masks) at a playground. Mama reported that you and a girl you've known since pre-school were having a great time turning cartwheels on the grass, and mothering your American Girl dolls.
You’ve never liked FaceTime very much -- and Zoom even less so -- so I felt blessed to have you read aloud to me the day before my own birthday, and then a few days afterward. You love Mo Willems, and demonstrated great expression as you read me Waiting Is Not Easy, a sweet story about an elephant named Gerald.
I miss you and Jack like crazy, but don’t feel safe boarding an airplane until there’s a vaccine for Covid-19. Because of your distaste for Zoom “meetings,” you will not be following the lead of Jack and his buddies, most of whom had birthday celebrations via Zoom.
Mama tells me that unlike your older brother, you never ask for anything of a material nature. In fact when I asked: “Lucy, what would you like for your birthday?” you cited only two things, “a fluffy robe,” and “maybe another Barbie.” (As much as I would have liked to get you a Barbie doll, the concept of a doll who wears heavy eye makeup even when she’s dressed as an “explorer” in camouflage gear just goes against my values.)
When you saw matching rainbow robes (one for you and one for your American Girl doll), I ordered them, but with some regret. I told Mama that the quality didn’t seem very good, unlike the robes from The Company Store or even Wayfair. “Lucy doesn’t know what the robes cost, and she doesn’t care, but that’s what she wants,” your Mama told me. She said I was silly, feeling that I had to spend the same amount on your birthday gift as I spent on Jack’s.
Your Great Aunt Phyllis in Colorado has sent you a very generous birthday gift that I hope brings you a lot of joy. Joss Kendrick, the American Girl “Doll of the Year,” should be arriving any day now. This doll is a cheerleader with a disability; she comes with a plastic hearing aid.
At Aunt Phyllis’ suggestion, I decided to supplement my original gift with a second set of clothing for Joss: a beach outfit with drawstring pants, a tank top, flip flops and a pink baseball cap. I also got you a book for beginning readers called Too Many Jacks.
As a special surprise, your Mama has ordered a bounce house for the backyard that you and Jack can play in. She has also booked an appointment for one of your older American Girl Dolls to have her hair restyled at the American Girl Store at the Stanford Mall. Of course you’ll be having an ice cream cake.
Most important, you will also be having a series of socially distanced, outdoor mini-celebrations/playdates with one friend at a time. Never in a million years did I expect your playdates would be limited or that you would be going back to remote learning when first grade starts in a couple of weeks.
Please be assured that when Covid-19 is over, we will all travel somewhere nice for a family vacation.
Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!
Love,
Bubbie
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