Mumma I honor you and love you and celebrate you every day, but especially today in your humoring of Birthday conventions, as you do all unavoidable realities with smiles, bumbags and walking shoes. I love observing how you observe my being observant, your patience and selfless dedication to family as well as your patients, your unbelievable compassion and acceptance right up until the edge and back again. Your Hebrew name is Gittel, your hampsters name was Pod. Some call you Doctor but clearly you are a reincarnated healing goddess from ancient lineage of ashtunga, feminine divinity and essential oils. You are my perfect ratio of salad dressing, the adjustment in my yoga class, the article on my fridge, the Mullum to my bimby, the six to my pack, the advice to the questions we never asked Tanya Rose Kaye . You are Turramurra and maroon Taragos and the balanced embodiment of humanity’s finest archetypes and a shining beacon of what we as a species could perhaps one day accomplish in regards to health and motherhood. Getting on with it like an anarchist against nihilists against patriarchal oppression. All the while, being the most influential, enigmatic, sassiest diva I know with also the most humility (zero interest in all of the above public display of devotion). But I’m proud of you and I LOVE YOU, my heroine and supermum and infinite other things fiercely caring and kind. I miss your womb sometimes (who knew you could be so creative) xxxx