My dad would like to chase your naked butt....

....said my little girl at about age 18 months (and 30 years old today) as she watched her grandma who was visiting us get out of the shower. Happy birthday sweet sis! How did this happen to both of us? I am not old enough to have a child of 30!

Thirty years ago Bruce and I were at the hospital trying to have our first child. We didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl because ultrasounds were not commonly done in those days. We went to the hospital early the night before Kseniya was born and were sent home because they figured I wasn't ready. The doctor said to go home and drink some beer and he gave me a sleeping pill. Bruce has already given me an enema...we were the yuppie parents of that time who did not want to have an enema in the hospital. Now no woman has to suffer the indignity of her husband giving her an enema or even having one in the hospital. We were sent home two more times and the third time they kept us. I told Bruce I would not go home again without a baby. Driving to the hospital, Bruce looked at me and said "I'm scared!" He was scared? I was the one that had to push out a baby - I had seen the movie at our prenatal classes. It looked like it was much more fun getting a baby in than getting it out!

Kseniya was born about 1130 AM. I remember those beautiful blue eyes looking at me. We had two names picked out...Nicholas Michael if we had a boy and Kseniya Anne if we had a girl. Kseniya was a name from a play by Pushkin that Bruce liked when he was taking a Russian Lit class. Kseniya Anne she was and is and there is none like her. My mom said when I called her "What kind of name is that?" Throughout her childhood, she refused nicknames - like Cassie, which some people tried to call her. "My name is Kseniya" she would say.

The first night home from the hospital, I remember waking up and hearing a little squawk - and realizing I no longer got to sleep through the night and wouldn't for many more years. But it was all worth it.

The best thing was that I was able to stay home for about three months and then worked one day a week for 18 more months. We had a lot of fun although it probably didn't seem so at the time. The first baby was like an "practice run" and I am sure we were much more relaxed with the other two. But Kseniya had more of our undivided attention. I don't know how she grew when all she ate was yogurt, scrambled eggs and ro ro's (macaroni).

I choose not to think of the times when I wasn't a good mother but more of the times that I think I was. I wish I could have been home more but I think it worked out. Kseniya was a precocious child who at 18 months (besides telling my mom that her dad would like to chase her butt) decided that she wanted to wear big girl panties and potty trained herself. People used to ask me all the time how old she was because she could talk so well. The first day of kindergarten she said "You don't have to come in with me". I did though. She happily wore the cute dresses my mom sent her until she realized that no one else wore dresses to school and she didn't have to either. I turned into my own mother as I watched her grow up, wishing I could keep her in size 6x. She wanted to be an archaeologist for a while and before she was even in her teens, she subscribed to a magazine called "archeology today".

The years passed by too quickly. I used to hate it when people would say "Enjoy them while they are little cause they grow up so fast", but this is true. I marked the beginning of her period by getting second piercings in my ears, and her trip to Germany by running a marathon. Soon there was high school, then college. We stayed up most of the night talking about whether she should go to Vassar, Lewis and Clark, or Dickinson. She was accepted to all three. She chose Dickinson, which started her on the path to herself and where she is meant to be. I will never forget the trip to college - both of us hauling suitcases after having sent boxes before us of way too much stuff. I rented a car for the first time and was nervous driving on the turnpike for 20 minutes. It was the weekend that Princess Diana died and I knew I was crying over that as an excuse to cry over leaving my firstborn so far away from home on her own, with the parting sight of her standing by the dorm window crying on my mind as the plane tossed and bounced with me in it between Harrisburg and Atlanta. I comforted a frightened young girl about Kseniya's age who was sitting next to me on the plane. She told me I should get my belly button pierced - I was flattered cause she thought I could be that cool - or my belly that flat. Funny the things we remember.

All the things my daughter has done have not only helped her grow but have helped me to grow too. It's hard to let go, but it is why we have kids - to raise them the best we can and do the best we know how at the time and watch them make us proud with their lives. All we should want of our kids is that they are happy and contribute to the good in the world.

So sweet Kseniya Anne - you are now part of what we called "the establishment" in the 60's. I am proud of all you do and have done - my daughter the printer, the writer, the poet, and the person who keeps me from wearing Koret and will still love me if I get an apron. I love you and Happy Birthday. Continue to follow your bliss.