After those dreadful months, I want to celebrate just about anything and everything. I just want to want to do exactly as in Rita Ora’s “Your song”. Every time I hear it, I tear up on the part where she sings; I don’t want to sing sad songs anymore, only want to sing love songs, don’t want to sing mad songs anymore, just want to sing your song…

 

So yesterday morning, I held up to the promise I made to myself. I didn’t sing sad songs, nor mad songs. I was extremely happy.

 

Malha finally is in her first cycle. And that was good cause for a celebration!

 

We often joked about it, to celebrate Malha’s first cycle, because my mom did so when I had my first cycle. And I hated her for it at the time. Going out to celebrate eating cake. How could she do that to me? When I sat at the table of the pastry shop, my mother was the only one who expressed just a little too much joy and happiness for my taste. I was so scared people knew the reason why we sat there eating the bloody cake. But despite the fact I hated it when I was a young girl, I appreciated the thought behind it more and more when I grew older. So yesterday, I jumped from joy when I spotted a tiny drop of blood. I texted Ramon, he could stop worrying about Malha’s health, because after 14 months, she finally had her first cycle.

 

‘Yay!!!’ he texted back, ‘Time for cake and a bottle of wine to celebrate!! Oh, and we’re eating fries off course, because you always eat fries on a kids party.’

 

‘What?? A kids party? This is no kids party! This is Malha her Bat Mitzvah. A celebration of her female spiritual maturity.’

 

‘Okay’, he texted with a winking smiley, ‘A Bat Mitzvah, with steak and cake it is!’

 

I smiled my biggest smile when I read his text. He is just as silly as me, and I love it!! I almost skipped to the attic to find a piece of plywood I could use to make a huge decoration sign with the letter M of Malha and Mitzvah. I gathered all the yellow balloons I could find, and used the prop I made last year for a photoshoot when the puppies were only 6 weeks old, to frame a photo of Malha from last week.

 

 

Ramon and me were in a super festive mood, a little too much for Malha her taste, but there was steak….

 

 

And cake….

 

 

All day long she just didn’t know what to do with herself. She was sleepy, a little moody, and needed lots of cuddles.

 

 

When she made her ‘being annoyed face’, I had to laugh so hard, my belly ached.

 

 

I saw my own little annoyed face when I ate my celebration cake at the pastry shop, feeling moody and strange, listening to my mother’s exuberating joy telling me I’m a young woman now, instead of a babygirl. ‘Jeez, mom…. What’s the deal?’

 

 

Bat Mitzvah. That’s the deal.

 

 

I feel it now. Even though I know Malha is a dog, I was so happy I could celebrate this exactly the way my mother did. Our little puppy-girl is no puppy no more. She a little lady-dog now.

 

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