Happy Birthday Paris!
Many years before you were born Pops and I fell in love in Paris; well, I fell in love for he claimed it had been love at first sight for him at Victoria station several weeks earlier.
We decided we would call our first daughter Paris after that beautiful city where we lost our hearts to each other.
And it is a total coincidence…your name came first remember…that you just happened to be born on the biggest French holiday of the year!
Bastille Day.
Consequently there are always huge celebrations across the pond with street parties and fireworks just for you…or so you believe!
When I told my mother the name we had chosen for you she said,
“That’s a Greek god’s name.”
“It is?” I said. “It’s also the name of a city in France!”
“Why would you want to call her after a city in France?”
I was not going to play the family name game with her, we’d already been through it with the two boys…and I really wasn’t that keen on any of the traditional names that kept cropping up for girl choices, Agnes, Mary, Maggie, Nell, Euletta, Fraud…well…Fraud was the name of one of Hubs’ Aunts and we weren’t really expected to go for that one, but the story behind it always makes me laugh.
I held my ground with Paris, Greek god, fashionable city or just a beautiful name and placated my parents by using Anne, my middle name. That’s how you came to be called Paris Anne…
…but be warned, it could have been Fraud-Agnes!
Your favorite color in a vase
So…what was I doing twenty-nine years ago?
I was happy to have your father home…he was on a world tour with The Bee-Gees, scheduled to be gone for the best part of a year, and had managed to finagle ten days off for your arrival. Five days before my scheduled C-Section and 5 days afterwards.
Periwinkles were the only blooming plant at Calloways when I went to buy flowers for your Welcome to the World party at home.
They were purple…which probably had some subliminal influence on becoming your favorite colour,
Yep, I love purple!
and the reason behind why your nick-name is Periwinkle-
with Twinkle-toes attached because it just tripped off the tongue so prettily.
Remember Watsie, our Schnoodle?
How he’d come with all of us to wake you up singing Happy Birthday and bark along in his best falsetto?
I’m lovely aren’t I?
One year you cried because you were turning 9.
You wanted to stay 8 forever!
Pretti-ful you!
And here we are twenty years later!
Have a super day my sweet, all grown up, girl.
It’s a hot, hot, day in July…so be careful…we should all be at surf and swim!!
I hope this year is a good one.
Know that I am proud of you and enjoy your company whether we’re making decadent chocolate cakes, chatting about anything or playing long games of cards.
You are a beautiful, God following, young lady and I miss and love you lots and lots!
“Many happy returns of the day,” as we say in England.
Mumsienne-Me xxx000
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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