Happy Birthday One Year Old

This time last year I was all strung out on endorphins, smiling at everyone, not a care in the world that there were stitches in my lady parts, or that my nipples were minutes away from becoming giant blisters of searing pain because I had just given birth to this adorable, wrinkled, little thing who changed my life and my vagina forever.

One Year Ago.

This Morning.  One Year Old.

This morning I woke up and could not believe it has been a year already.  I remember giving birth like it was yesterday.  Ladies who say you forget all the pain and everything are flat out lying liars of lies.  I remember.  I remember well.  But maybe what they mean is that more than the labor, what I remember is the feeling the minute, no, the second she was out because Oh. My. God. it is seriously one of the most incredibly magical feelings in the world.  The happiness and love I felt not just for Adeline but for everyone within a five thousand mile radius of me was amazing.  I still to this day feel like I could kiss our delivery nurse on the lips if I ever see her again for being so kind and helpful.  And the doctor who had half her arm up in my vajage?  I'd make her a Thanksgiving dinner every single Thursday if she asked me to.

 Just thinking about it makes me tear up, because I'm still just so happy I got pregnant that one day when we didn't mean for it to happen because that little sucker has rocked my world with cuteness, and love, and happiness, and constant laughter, and a joy in things I never thought could be joyful, like a toothbrush, and toothy smiles, and discovering the whole world - I mean she's discovering the world.  For the first time.  And it is amazing.  It is so amazing to see her figure out that if she lets a ball drop it bounces.  IT BOUNCES PEOPLE!  And the giggle and repetition of that is so much fun I can't stand it, and she loves us, and she loves the dog, and she loves the cat, and she loves her family, and she really, really, really loves her Hello Kitty dressed as a bunny doll, so much that it's black and sticky with her love, and sometimes this, all of this, it's heartbreaking, and hard, and tedious, and exhausting, and I've never worried so much about something in my entire life because she's my baby, and she's so fragile, but she's also so amazingly strong, and tough, and honest, and moody, but mainly happy, and I don't say this lightly, I am truly a better person because of her.  EVERY ONE GETS THANKSGIVING ALL THE DAYS!!!

Anyway, it's her birthday.

Happy Birthday Baby Cakes.  Mama loves you more than you'll ever know.  Until maybe you have a daughter of your own one day, and then you might get the gist.  But probably not.

Dolla Bills Ya'll

Adeline's new fav thing to do is take everything out of my wallet and chuck it as hard as she can behind her as if examining each piece and then deciding it's not worthy of her slobber, until she finds a five dollar bill that was probably once in a stripper's crabby g-string and that is the object she shoves in her mouth.  It's a good thing she gets her shots because girlfriend would eat a dirty needle if she could find one.

Which is making our mornings a little more stressful than we'd like.

Why's that, you ask?  Well, because the first thing that happens in the morning is that the sunlight comes shooting through the windows only to shine light on the decapitated bird James has left at the foot of the bed, or the mouse entrails lining the bathroom floor, or the bird/mouse bloody combo piled on the middle of the floor like he's about to make a sacrificial bonfire of awful.  So instead of lounging in bed and taking in the morning with relaxation and happiness, we awake in a mad rush to clean up blood and guts before our baby eats it all.  Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a weird episode of Sarah Palin's My Alaska.  It's sort of a nightmare.

Anyway, one day Adeline will be old enough to clean up the body parts all on her own, at which point I will buy her her own tiny pair of rubber gloves and celebrate.  Until then, I'm not so worried about the money eating.  At least that doesn't leave a stain.

Floppy Hats and All Kinds of Discoveries

So, the other day I sent this text out to a few of my friends:


"Just took a bath with Addie where she discovered my nipples and spent the rest of the bath trying to pull them off.  Then she peed on me.  Felt a little bit like college."



And that, my friends, is why I don't have twitter.

Because no one needs that kind of information broadcast to the entire world.

(Yes, I do pretend my blog is a secret.  I have to, otherwise I'd never write anything due to embarrassing the people I live with.)


So, yeah, Adeline is discovering all kinds of stuff.  Nipples, electrical outlets, that it's crazy fun to unroll the toilet paper and shred it into horrible, melting to the walls-like confetti every time her mom takes a shower, EVERY TIME, even though she should wise up and just hide all the toilet paper for the rest of ever if she had any sense but apparently she doesn't and also, oh my gosh, she's just so cute when she's destroying the house!

I do not know what you mean "destroy". I only helps.

She's so much fun right now, and so into everything.  This morning when I took a shower, after she was done murdering the toilet paper, she left the bathroom yelling, "Goo ga di BA DI GAH!" which is her typical war cry, and then I didn't hear her for a while which meant a) I could enjoy the rest of my shower without a tiny, crazed lunatic yelling at me to "Gaggity GOOBERS!!!!" as she peeks into the shower like a creeper; and also b) that there was a chance she'd be choking on something in the corner of my bedroom and I couldn't hear her because she was no longer breathing.  This is my biggest fear when I can't hear her anymore.  Needless to say I jumped out of the shower and ran around my room, dripping wet, and screaming "Ba gah gooder DIGAR?" (because I think it'll help me find her if I talk to her like that?), and I could Not. Find. Her. 

My next totally rational fear?  She has simply disappeared into thin air.  She's the first human that can actually travel through time and space and she can't control it yet because duh, she's a baby, so she's lost in New Mexico, or worse, real Mexico somewhere and I won't be able to find her because I CAN'T APPARATE.  

Yeah, that's right, I actually thought that.  Granted it was only for like a split second, but still.  Mama might need some drugs.

Anyway, I pulled my shit together (slightly) and still dripping soap and water everywhere, my deflated-balloon-like mommy parts swaying in the wind, I ran into the closet, even though I'd already checked there because I had a slightly helpful thought, "Baby small.  Baby hide under things."  (I talk to myself like a caveman when I'm panicked.)  And lo and behold, there she was, hiding under my hanging clothes, with a firm grasp on one part of the cat's tail, while the very end of the tail was snug inside of her grinning little mouth.  

My daughter everyone, Sneaky McSneaks A Lot.

                                                       

Boy is she lucky that cat is nice, or I'm fairly certain she'd be blind right now.

                                                     

Huh.  I did not think about that.

The good news is if she ever hangs out with the Kardashians she's got the sunglasses inside down pat.

                                                      

Hahahaaaaaaa, it's so wrong, but that chubby, raspberry covered face kills me!  CHUBBY CHEEKS!

Oh, also she's in a new phase where she wants her floppy outdoor hat on all the time.  Even first thing in the morning.  It's pretty quirky and pretty fucking adorable.

                                                           

I only eat breakfast in my hat Mother.  

I know, I know, I don't match.  I also don't care.  THIS HAT FOR LIFE!

Who is this thing and why is she always wearing that dang hat?

Even Bob is intrigued by it.  I mean really, who isn't?