A Tale of Two Fourth Birthdays

Our daughter, Lucy, turns four years old this week. Besides sensing the truth in the old cliché about how time flies and my realization of how quickly she’s morphed from a baby into a bona fide kid, I’m having one of those moments where I’m struck once again by how not only am I not a kid anymore but I’m also a parent.

That sounds pretty dumb because obviously I’m a 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and I’ve been well aware of that for four years now. But somehow it’s made even more stark because of the strong sense of déjà vu I’m experiencing on this particular birthday. I vividly remember my own fourth birthday, even though it was nearly 33 years ago.

I can still picture the party back in March of 1979 with my extended family at my great-grandfather’s house. I’m flashing back to the scene around Grandpa Smaldone’s kitchen table. We were also celebrating my dad’s birthday – his 32^nd - which was two days before mine. I remember thinking that my dad was so tall, so old, and such a grown up, and now I’m realizing he was a few years younger than I am right now with a 4-year-old of my own.

Besides the fact that I was little and literally looking up to everyone in the room, I distinctly remember two things about that party. One was that my dad once again promised to quit smoking “for me” (he tried, and failed, but I don’t recall giving him a hard time about it or even asking him to try), and the other was that I was given a dollhouse.

I’d forgotten about that toy until a week or two ago when I was shopping in Greetings and Readings and looking at their collection of Hallmark Keepsake Ornaments, which included a tiny replica of that fourth-birthday dollhouse with the blue siding and yellow roof. But it wasn’t until just now that the coincidence whoomped me in the head: This is probably why I felt compelled to buy Lucy a dollhouse of her own for her birthday this year.

Lucy’s birthday isn’t until Thursday, but I spent an hour or so Saturday afternoon building her new toy. I’m sure a therapist would have fun trying to untangle why I set off on a quest to get a dollhouse for her this year, but for now I just hope that she’ll like it and will remember it fondly someday, just as I am doing right now.