Buttercup's Happy Birthday

On Wednesday, we celebrated Buttercup's third birthday.  The entire reason being: why NOT celebrate Buttercup's third birthday?

We don't know when she was actually born.  In Uganda, birth certificates seem to be issued when they are needed for a particular purpose, instead of de facto after a child is born.  So when we started the adoption process, part of it was to go and get their birth certificates issued, and one line on the certificate states who is providing the information.  I suppose it could be a nurse in a hospital, like our American ones, but on the ones I've seen it's always been the mother.  And clearly these children's mother was too confused to remember when her younger daughter was born -- I think the lack of seasons contributes to local inability to remember time correctly -- so she just put the same date as the older child, four years later.  Both children were born at home (as is common), but someone took Hibiscus to the clinic for her infant vaccinations, and the clinic records and dates are in our files.  By the time Buttercup came along, the family seemed to beyond details like that -- along with a lot of basic infant attention -- and there are no dates anywhere near her birth at all.

The official birth date is mid-February, which would mean that she turned 2.5 almost exactly when she came to live with us.  I am pretty sure this is too late and that she was closer to 3 at that point.

From my research, every single physical indication of age, from size to eruption of teeth to puberty, can be changed by the kind of malnutrition and neglect that Buttercup obviously experienced, so there is no way to look at her development and be sure how old she is.  The younger the child is, the easier it is to guess their age, simply because the developmental markers come within smaller parameters.  For instance, babies usually roll over within a time frame of just a couple of months, whereas the normal time frame learn to say the [s] sound correctly is several years.  But generally, whatever age a developmental expert might guess, the child is probably older than that, because the stress of malnutrition makes learning every skill more challenging.

My best estimation of her age was based on her language and comprehension skills, because that seemed less dramatically delayed than everything physical.  There are certain steps linguistically that are based on brain development, such as using irregular verbs.  Babies start out imitating them correctly, then go through a phase where they regularize everything in mid-toddlerhood, and gradually start working in the correct irregular tenses, with their verbs being completely correct again somewhere between four and five.  Obviously, Buttercup had not been hearing English throughout her babyhood and toddlerhood, so her spoken English is not going to sound just like that of an American child.  I noticed that at first she imitated pronouns like a young toddler, but within a month started using pronouns correctly and within two months was completely accurate in using the correct person.  By now, almost four months into her English immersion, she is not only using the person correctly, she is starting to naturally correct more subtle differences such as between "I" and "me."  (I will add that from what I can tell, Luganda does not use pronouns at all, it uses changes to the verbs and even nouns, more like Latin, so she has been learning this skill and not translating it.)

Example:
Mother says "Do you want a cookie?"  The child agrees:
Stage 1: "You want cookie!" (repeats mother's words)
Stage 2: "Buttercup want cookie!" (takes out incorrect pronoun)
Stage 3: "Me want cookie!" (correct person)
Stage 4: "I want cookie!" (fully correct)

Going through these stages is part of brain development and part of language development.  So no matter how intelligent, you are not going to find a 16-month-old that has completed the stages, and a 20-year-old learning English for the first time is not going to start at the first stage.  From my research and from asking friends, it seemed like children moved from the first two stages to somewhere in the second two stages, between 2.5 years and 3 years old, and they saw a big difference right around 2.5  It seemed to me to be highly unlikely that Buttercup would have the exact same language development right at 2.5 (plus one month), when the other children had three years of full-time English exposure and Buttercup had one month's worth!  So my guess is that she was somewhere near the 3-year-old side in September, when she started using pronouns correctly.

So that puts her birthday some time in the summer or fall.  I picked November because it seemed like just about the latest possible reasonable time, and she is otherwise so incredibly delayed and small for her age that it will be an advantage to her to be a little "older" than her peers.  It is also safely past ever being able to be thought to be able to go to the next grade up.  Furthermore, early November is nicely before the craziness of the holiday season starts, and neither sibling has a birthday in that month.  Important mom-considerations!

I figured we would pick a date that has a special significance, so there is at least a special story about her birthday, even if it's not the usual story about being the day she was born.  But when early November came around this year, I didn't much feel like having a party, and then it turned into The Month Of Horrors, and I still didn't feel like throwing a party.  The benefit of little kids is that they don't know when you pass over their anticipated birthday because they don't know what the date is anyways, and the benefit of little kids who have never celebrated a birthday before is that they don't even really think they are missing anything!  I was thinking maybe we would manage to have a celebration when we got home, and there was someone around to celebrate with anyway.

Then our coming-home date got pushed back, and then Daddy showed up and we felt more like a family.  And one day the kids were at school, and I got to take a shower by myself and think a little bit, and I realized that we had a free afternoon and there wouldn't be any more of them, and we might as well have "a happy birthday," as the African-English phrase goes.

There wasn't any time to order a cake or shop for real presents, but my parents had brought enough supplies that baking a cake was technically possible, and even a few decorations.  And there were still some things in the suitcases that I had been saving, that I could pull out for presents, and I figured I could get something little in the local trading center, and possibly even some "icing sugar" to make frosting with.  So I got Daddy's agreement for the project, and set off making a "happy birthday."

You will note that this is a pretty slap-dash affair, and it would be hard to make something very spectacular between afternoon and dinner-time.  But I have a confession: I am not much of a birthday-party-mom anyways.  For Emerson's first birthday, I came up with an excellent and age-appropriate idea, which all the moms and babies enjoyed immensely, and that appeared to use up pretty much all of my birthday-party creativity for all future children, let alone future birthdays.  I could also tell you about Emerson's fourth birthday, which is the most recent, but the others have become kind of vague in my mind.  I think I missed at least one.  And I have not yet one single idea in mind for the upcoming child-birthday season, other than "my, they are getting old!"

I have friends who do these amazing celebrations, with crafts and sewing special outfits for the birthday child and snacks that match the theme and gift bags and everything.  As I was scribbling on typing paper to make something to wrap the presents in, I decided on my strategy to protect my children from disappointment.  In the future, when they are invited to birthday parties, I will ask the mom something off-hand and enthusiastic, like "oh, do you have a theme?"  If they answer yes and start waxing rhapsodic about the story books they have found and the elaborate cake construction, I will have to be very sad and apologize about our prior commitments.  If they kind of cough and look sideways and say they think their child might like strawberry cake, I'll know it will be fully safe for us to attend.  My children will think that the glory of birthdays is getting to sit at the front of the table and have everyone sing to you, and will never know how much more spectacular a birthday could be.

I made Buttercup's cake while she napped on my back, which I found kind of amusing.  I did chocolate, because although I didn't know if she liked chocolate cake, I did have chocolate powder in the cupboard.  (Thanks, Gramma!)  I found the recipe on-line, called "One-Bowl Chocolate Cake," selected because I have exactly one mixing bowl.  However, the recipe actually called for mixing dry ingredients separately and adding them alternating with a milk mixture, which kind of sounds like THREE bowls to me, which I also found amusing.  (I used a tupperware.)  Then Buttercup kept napping, and I found a game in one of the suitcases, that I hadn't gotten out yet because actually Hibiscus is too chaotic and Buttercup is too young to actually PLAY games.  .  But it has all these little fruits, which I thought Buttercup would enjoy.  And I found a counting-bears pattern card set.  And we had just gotten a care package, which had a Berenstein Bears book in it.  So that would be some presents.

I also found a felt sewing project in the care package, and I thought the older kids would enjoy the sewing and could make a present for their sister with that.  So when they got home from school, I set them up with that project and went to do errands to finish up our party.  Except they were acting kind of wild, so I thought Daddy would be able to manage two than three, so I wrapped up Buttercup and took her with me.  Which is even funnier than making her birthday cake with her on my back; doing her birthday shopping with her on my back!

The good news is that we found a very good little supermarket at the bottom of the hill, and I can tell that there must be a higher percentage of ex-pats or generally wealthy people in this area than there were in Ggaba.  We would never have found powdered sugar in a store that small near our old place!  I also let her pick out really terribly junky plastic construction trucks made in China for a present, and picked up a little plastic bowl with a decoration on the bottom.  We are always in need of plastic bowls, mostly because Hibiscus tries to carry them on her head and then she drops them.  Alas, no wrapping paper though.

It turned out the sewing project was a disaster, and Daddy got very nervous with the sharp needles.  So when I got back they had changed clothes are were busy doing Ndere dances for Daddy, which involved a lot of bottom wiggling and carrying around books on the head.  Which are better than clay pots when you are under the age of seven.  They had forgotten all about making a present for Buttercup, but as I finished dinner Emerson got dedicated and wrote out a long card for her very nicely.  Although he is more into text than color. Hibiscus wanted to do one too, but she wanted to do the kind where you don't actually sit still or do any work, and without knowing what she wanted to write or how to spell it, and the sitting-still part kind of got in the way of writing anything even when someone told you how to spell it.  So hers was not so spectacular.

However, she had just-so-happened to bring home from school a little plastic doo-dad that was on someone's school birthday cake that said "happy birthday" and had balloons on it.  She was very excited about this when she heard it was Buttercup's happy birthday, and she wanted to give her the cake topper, except without actually handing it to anyone, more like carrying it around because she was so excited, and then leaving it places.  She lost it at least four times before the cake was actually produced, with great anger and hysteria each time.  I think someone finally hid it from her during the "lost" state, so she wouldn't have to have an apoplexy if it didn't make it onto the actual cake.

We had dinner.  With a tablecloth.  (When we were looking at pictures today, Buttercup said "look dat color red" to point it out, since she didn't remember the word "tablecloth!")  Then I got out the presents in their made-up wrapping paper and Buttercup got on Daddy's lap.  Then I lit the candles and we all sung the song.  Then Buttercup blew out the candles.  (We had practiced blowing out candles all the way up the hill from the supermarket!)  Then she was very proud of herself.

What a day for Buttercup!  She didn't care that it was slap-dash or that she hadn't known it was her birthday that morning or that no one knew when she had actually been born.  For a little while, she was important.  She was the center of attention.  The whole cake and celebration was for HER.  It was amazing.

I have been taught to not be self-centered and taken that lesson to heart, so little kids' self-centeredness is kind of grating to me, even though I understand it.  But for Buttercup, it is different.  All she has ever learned is to be last and least and to get out of the way, and watch and wait.  Remember what I wrote in July... that she was finally getting to the point that she thought I had some particular interest in her?  Yet even still she would not walk towards me or ask for hugs or attention, she would just look kind of hopeful that I might possibly notice her.  She has come a very long way emotionally that she is even able to enjoy or accept being the center of attention at a birthday party.  She still looks quietly gratified and amazed whenever we talk about it, like she can't believe it actually happened to HER.

So it was such a joy to give her a celebration that was all about her.  And fortunately, from school the older children know a little bit more about birthdays, and they are at the age where they love observing all the special little birthday-party rules.  So when I said that the birthday girl has to take a bite of cake before anyone else can have any, they conscientiously monitored everyone in the room and kept all attention on Buttercup and exactly whether she had eaten any cake.  They even self-limited that they couldn't have the edge-frosting bites until Buttercup had had hers.  Even though Buttercup likes to think and take things slowly, and both her siblings love to dive into everything quickly, they slowed down and followed her lead.  After only a couple of warnings, they managed to let her open her presents on her own, too.  Although that got difficult, because she wanted to play with each thing -- and I let her -- and the big kids wanted to SEE them all.  (In fact, we haven't finished opening presents yet!)


It is several days later, and Buttercup still glows whenever we talk about her "happy birthday" or eat some cake or see anything about birthdays at all.  "Like Bu-cup, has ha-bir-day!  Is like Bu-cup!" she announced several times, when there was a birthday cake in our goodnight book.

So happy birthday to my littlest one.  May this be a wonderful, wonderful year.