Monday, June 03, 2013

Now We Are Nine.


Nine years ago I went into labor on Memorial Day (that's a Monday, folks) and had this one on THURSDAY MORNING after 3-1/2 hours of pushing and a vacuum delivery:


If I had been in the habit of speaking this way back then, I surely would have said, OMG, YOU ALL.

Our nearest family was a four-hour drive away and this baby had colic and never slept and this went on for months and I had exactly zero stay-at-home mom friends (and pretty much zero friends with babies at all yet, either). There was a LOT of crying. Hers and mine.

The fact that she was my first was probably a good thing, because I had nothing to which I could compare the experience and come up with, You know, this kinda blows.

As I always say, THANK GOD she ended up being the most amazing, brilliant, precocious, mature, sweet, and thoughtful child, because she made up for all that awful beginning stuff.

sorry, a bit blurry because the six-year-old photographer took these pictures




Julia Charlotte turns nine today. That's nearly a decade of life, which seems impossible.

Over the weekend we had her birthday party. It was a garden party--a fancy tea party--for eight guests. All day the forecast was for (more) rain during the scheduled party time, so we held off on putting out the tables and decorating the trees. I put the tables on the patio under our awning and hung the streamers inside instead. Then 15 minutes before the party we spied blue skies, and rushed outside to put out tables on the grass under the birch trees and set them with my antique china cups and saucers. The milieu was a little bare, since I never did get a chance to string streamers and balloons from the tree branches as I'd originally envisioned, but no one knew or cared.



The girls painted their own flowerpots and had flower garden cupcakes.




They enjoyed their "tea" (juice), berries, cake, and ice cream outside under the trees and with a brilliant, unexpected sun overhead.




And today, the day before the last day of school, she is officially nine.

May the next nine years go by much slower than the last.

Onward.


2 comments:

Lucy said...

Shannon, it's been nine years. Is it maybe time to let the story of the traumatic birth and how much you suffered during her first months go? As a psychologist, you should recognize that you are being selfish here. It's her birthday. It's not about you. Please, stop this story before your daughter is old enough to read it on the Internet and be damaged by it. Enough already!

Shannon said...

@Lucy,

Are you kidding me? Once a woman has experienced a labor like that, she OWNS that story for LIFE, girlfriend! As my friend Rita at Motherhood is my Cardio says, if you survive it, it makes a great story. :)

Besides, Julia already knows her birth story. I'm sure in future years she'll resent me for numerous things, but this is one I am surely not worried about! ;)

Now, let's go forward and try really hard not to cut down other women for how they mother, talk about motherhood, or get through the day, OK? We're all just doing the best we can, and we really do belong to each other.

Love to you.
xo
Shan