Birthday Week

The birthday has come and gone. Last week was a blur. First there was "Labor Day", then the actual birthday and attempted birthday lunch, then the successful birthday lunch, then the cat cake that was never meant to be, then the beautiful, glorious Saturday birthday weather. This week has included pink eye and vaccinations so far. But it has felt much easier than last week.

I’ll work backwards…

Day weighs 17 lbs 13 oz. For those rude people who want to know where that puts her on the growth chart, your answer is “right where she should be.” The truthful answer is I really don’t know. I don’t grade her on her growth performance and neither does her pediatrician. She is 28 inches long. She is very close to walking, but doesn’t know she can yet. She’ll stand unassisted sometimes, then realize it and sit down super fast. And she’ll RUN with her water legs as long as you are holding onto her. She pushes her stroller across the house like the professional Nanny that she is.

Speaking of, the girl could run her own daycare. She lines up her babies, feeds them all a bottle or her sippy, gives them snacks, and her new favorite… wipes their faces with a baby wipe. She hates to have her face wiped but she loves to wipe her babies’ faces. When she finishes wiping their faces, she wipes the floor, the walls, my face, etc. I’m glad she is so concerned with cleanliness. That’s a good sign. Considering her parents, this could have gone either way.

The party was perfect. I put my order in for good weather, and it must have been processed just in time. A couple of days before, I was telling Suzy (my cousin) that the forecast on our wedding day was scattered storms but that I was never worried and did not have a backup plan. The weather was perfect that day, too. This time, I had a backup plan, but not a very good one. My house would have been a little cramped. Thank GOD for the sunshine on Saturday!



For the first half hour of the party, Day wanted me to hold her, wouldn’t go to anybody else, laid her head on my shoulder, etc. Then her other mommas showed up (Rachel and Miss Jackie) and she did what she does at school… practically jumped out of my arms to get to them. She devoured her cake like all good one year olds do, rubbing it in her hair and kicking her legs in pure ecstasy. I’ll say this about the cake experience: It is apparent that she has the “stage” gene. The one that gives you the desire, no… the NEED to perform for other people. Even if you are the only performer. ESPECIALLY if you are the only performer. This gene skipped me. I can handle attention if it is diffused. Not spotlight attention. It’s a toss up as to who passed along this gene to Day… her father or her grandmother. Both will want credit.



I was slightly overambitious in my cake planning for the party. Since Day is obsessed with all things “kitty-cat”, I ordered a cat shaped cake pan for her birthday cake. How hard could it be? Mix up a boxed batter, pour it in, bake, decorate. I guess because the pan is not uniform and therefore is thicker in some places (or maybe because I only know how to steam vegetables) the cake would NOT set up all the way through! It was deceiving, though. I was unaware that the cat belly was still batter until the day of the party when I tried to start icing it. I didn’t freak out. I just tried again. With the same result. Maybe next year.



On the actual birthday, the plan was for my mom and I to take Day for a big girl birthday lunch. She has a pretty regular routine at school, so I was going to pick her up around lunch after her morning nap. When I got there, she was sound asleep and had had not been that way for very long. Since I live by the motto, "Never wake a sleeping baby," we decided to try again the next day.

The plan on day 2 was to go to Zachary’s instead of Peppers to save time on our lunch breaks. Long story short, we ended up at Huck’s after Zachary’s refused to serve us because of a new smoking ordinance. The “barmaid” (I’m being nice) yelled in her smoker’s voice that, “Ya’ll can’t come in here, honey. No one under 21 allowed!” She wouldn’t let us past the door frame. I thought she was kidding – you know, making an unfunny joke. I mean, it’s not like I was going to try to buy Day a beer. After all, it was only LUNCH time! (joking) But, she was not. With her arms extended the whole time, careening around the edge of the counter, she insisted that we turn around and go somewhere else. FINE! So, Day got kicked out of her first bar at one year old at her birthday lunch! Ken says it’s probably a good thing we went ahead and got that one out of the way.

So, semi-normal life resumes. She is in the Toddler room, sleeping on her big girl nap mat. Yesterday she painted a zebra AND her forehead. It’s zoo week at school. I wish someone had snapped a picture of that!

One last thing... as soon as I get the “professional” photos from Day’s birthday party, I’ll post them. Suzy promises to have gotten some great shots. I’m sure she did. It was a BEAUTIFUL DAY!

Labor Day

Last year I spent all 24 hours of February 15 in labor. This year, I took the day off work. Emotionally, I feel a little like I did in the weeks before Day was born. Raw. Not really wanting to talk to people. At least not wanting to pretend anything. In all honesty, I never gave a lot of thought to the one year mark. All I ever wanted was to be pregnant and have a healthy baby. Check. Everything else is (as they say) gravy.

I haven’t taken a moment for granted. I have heeded every word of advice that told me to savor my time. I’ve gazed into her angel face and soaked up the love. And still. I’m having to say goodbye to a stage that was so precious. I know, I know. It only gets better. But that’s hard to believe. It’s been REALLY good already.

We bought the “big-girl” nap mat for the toddler room at daycare. TODDLER! Did you hear me? Toddler. And I think she’s ready. It’s me that is having a hard time. She’s full steam ahead with a smile on her face. I love watching her learn, and try things, and make connections. And I’m looking forward to her birthday party. I think tomorrow will be the hard part. Or maybe I’m getting it all out today.

This weekend, I read a letter that I wrote to Day last year before she was born.

Here’s part of it:

“You are my everything. I promise to teach you about the good in this world. And I want to teach you how to be honest, even when it hurts. I know you’ll have a strong mind and will and a tender heart since your daddy and I are both that way. You could not have chosen better parents to raise you. We will NEVER take you for granted. You will always be the gift from God that we prayed for for so long. Still, we feel humbled by the gift of you. It has been such a miracle to feel you growing in my belly. At times when I thought adoption might be our path to parenthood, I never really let go of the desire to feel you grow inside of me. It has been like nothing I can describe. To share my body with you has been an honor. Honestly, I think I’ll miss you in there where you are safe and close to my heart at all times. I know raising you will be a challenge. Your daddy and I were both highly spirited children. I can’t wait to see what you’ll teach us. Know that you are loved and cherished.”

And it helped to remember that I felt this same way before she got here. And it really did just keep getting better. A wise friend told me, “the love for a child is the only love that grows toward separation”. I think I’m only beginning to understand the truth in those words.