Posts tagged birthday
She loves to build, bake, invent, draw, color, eat, play, sing, dance, change her clothes, buy new clothes, plan outfits, plan meals, plan Lego cities. Her passion is boundless. She’s innovative, and the way she changes from minute to minute is infinite. She’s independent in the most interesting ways, but she likes to wear my sweatshirt because she says she wants to be able to smell me whenever she needs to. She’s an excellent mix of strong and vulnerable, and now she’s seven. Seven? Really, I have no idea how we got here, but it’s a great place to be.
I like to take a big chunk of April off. It feels good. May is my favorite. Obviously, I’m a narcissistic naval gazer, so my birth month would be my favorite. Duh.
Things I’ve been enjoying the heck out of lately:
- Season 3 of Big Love
- Making beans in the crockpot
- Secrets of Feeding a Healthy Family by Ellyn Satter (I don’t ever read books like that, but Dawn’s First Guest Blog Series Ever introduced me to Katja Rowell M.D. and the Satter book. Life changing, for real. Check it.)
- My kids wrapped my birthday presents in a Twilight movie bag, knowing that I would love to opportunity to deface and destroy it. (We all hate Twilight for its abusive relationship marketed to young girls as romance). Smart and funny kids=best birthday present ever.
- Saying “heck” whenever I can, affecting Bill Henrickson’s look of confusion and/or horror:
I love that Bill would say, “My gosh, just what in the heck do you think you’re doing?” even if he were witnessing a murder.
What are you enjoying right now? Let’s get reacquainted!
Happy 11th birthday to Lena and Liberty! They’re partying with their friends and they just finished opening presents. We made up a little scavenger hunt for them and at the end, they found a video that told them what their big present was. Shout out to my awesome sister-in-law, Tracy, who came up with the gift idea. Below you’ll find the video with their priceless reaction after. They’re having a good birthday so far. I’m glad because these girls rock and I’m so proud of them.
I don’t have words, but I have pictures. We try so hard to treat Lena and Liberty as individuals, but when it comes to small things like writing in their birthday cards, it’s really difficult to not write exactly the same thing. They are so different from each other, and I know they’re not a unit, but there is no getting around the fact that they are both breathtaking. They are beautiful. They are amazing. They are goofy. They are spirited and wild and wonderful. And now, they are ten.
We have this sweet, goofy baby girl who is suddenly a five year old. Huh? I mean that with the utmost sincerity. Seriously…huh? She was a baby, I remember that. And now she’s a kid? Not a preschooler. Not a toddler. A kid. I’d like to be all poetic about her as a person, but since this is the the first birthday post for Maya, you get a birth story. Lucky you!
Five years ago yesterday, I woke up in labor at 5:00am. I was having a dream that I had a new baby boy and I was taking him to the IGA and introducing him to the check-out lady. “His name is Judah,” I said very sheepishly. Back then, that would’ve been kind of an odd name in my area and I guess I had a lot of anxiety about using it, because all of my baby dreams were about introducing the baby by name and cringeing while somebody said, “Judah? What kind of a name is that?” Anyway, I woke up with a cramp that hurt so bad, it made me roll off the couch and get on all fours. I went to the bathroom, found bloody show, and figured the baby was coming. My mom and my sister, with 6 kids between them, never labored for more than 5 hours so I didn’t think I would be any different. Stupid uterus. I was having a super-secret homebirth so I called my midwife and she got there at about 10:00 am. I don’t really remember what my contractions did all day except they were there and they were, like, whatever, and I had this midwife and her apprentice over, and my friend was visiting from Maine, but I had to cancel her visit because I thought I was having a baby, but then later that night, her parents saw Bryan grilling barbecued chicken outside and they were like, “I don’t think Abby’s having the baby because I saw Bryan outside grilling.” And my friend was all, “Weird.” Maybe she knew about the super-secret homebirth. I don’t know. I don’t remember the few people I spilled the beans to in those last couple of weeks. But I do remember demanding barbecued chicken while we waited for the slow-ass baby.
Nothing really happened all day long and it wasn’t fair. Throughout my pregnancy, we took bets about when the baby would be born and I CHOSE THE 16th! When I woke up at 5:00am on the frickin’ 16th, I thought I just won myself $65. At the time, I had a neighbor who had been my high school English teacher and he bet the baby would be born on the 17th because that was his birthday. He put his $5 on the 17th and he would say with such smug, English-teacher conviction, “I’m not gambling because I know that the baby will be born on the 17th.” Bryan even saw the English teacher in the grocery store that morning and said, “It looks like today’s going to be the day. I guess the baby couldn’t wait until your birthday.” That was at 9:00 in the morning and my neighbor very coolly replied, “There are 15 hours left in this day, so I wouldn’t get over confident about anything just yet.” All I knew is that I didn’t want to have the baby on the 17th because that would have been my midwife and her husband’s 30th wedding anniversary, only her husband had died in June. Two months before. Yeah, and you know what else? She was supposed to come for my first home visit in June and when she didn’t show up, I called her and you know why she didn’t show up? Um, because It was the day of her husband’s funeral. I called her at home to see where she was and her son answered and he actually put her on the phone and she was crying and apologizing and explaining that she forgot to call me and she was ever so sorry, but her husband died and, well, she had to bury him. And then I went and had the baby on what would have been their 30th anniversary. I’m so selfish.
Somehow, 23 hours later (some not-so-hard hours, several really hard hours), Maya was born right in our bedroom. Bryan cried, I cried, my midwife cried (probably for other reasons). My sister was there with me, having forgiven me for waking her up at 6:00am the day before with promises of babies and then failing to deliver any new babies to her in a timely manner, and she cried too. We were happy. It was cool. Maya rocks. And the neighbor gave the $65 to Maya for a birth day gift. Sweet.