Sprite's Keeper runs this show.
Twenty-one years ago today, I had my first, and relatively simple, foray into chilbirth. My daughter arrived, on her due date, after a textbook labor and delivery. Textbook, really. I remember thinking, as I tossed up the Raisin Bran cereal my mother told me it would be fine to eat, "Oh, so this must be transition. Almost there, then."
At 9:01 am on Sunday, October 22, 1989, I had my first contraction. At 9:03, I had my second. And they stayed steady. And at 6:01 pm, little miss Marie Elise arrived. My husband's boss had said to be sure to take pictures right away, so the memory would be captured forever. WHen he shared the first set of gooey-baby pictures with said boss, the reaction was, "I didn't mean THAT soon."
I remember bringing her home from the hospital and putting her in her crib, as she was asleep, and thinking, "Now what?"
Stevie Wonder said it best, "Isn't she lovely?"
Little miss was a wonderfully easy baby and toddler. She ate well and slept easily. She talked (very) early and walked (very) late. She used to come with me from 18 months to about two years of age, as I babysat for a friend. Their daughter called her The Girl Who Walks on Her Knees. She never did a regular crawl, but scooted around on her belly and elbows. We called her Commando Baby. The, instead of cruising up on her toes, she did it on her knees. See mom? No falling!
The early talking? Was both fun and amazing. Little Miss had (and has) many opinions, and was never afraid to share. I recall her walking up to an elderly woman on a bench at the mall, and touching the lady's hair and asking why it was that color (bluish)? Nobody was out-of-bounds, as far as she was concerned. It made for a few anxious moments.
Did I mention she still talks? Oh, yes. And rather a lot, really. I have asked, on more than one occasion, "Wait! Take a BREATH!" At which I learn of her champion eye-rolling skills.
This is from six or seven years ago. Other children had tiger faces.
Young Miss asked for Cirque de Soleil.
Today, she is twenty-one. She has been engaged to the same young man for over three years. Likely they will marry next year (just waiting for the date). She has escaped the nest, but not too far. About 100 feet, across the street, which makes for frequent visits in both directions. (Speaking of direction, she is notoriously bad with them. I'll use states to illustrate my point. Imagine Young Miss setting out from Michigan to Massachusetts...then calling to ask, "I just passed Nebraska. Am I almost there?" Head, meet desk.)
That's my girl. Happy Twenty-first birthday, Miss! I love you very much.
