Yesterday, my sweet baby girl became a year old. (There are a few more photos at the Caffeinated Kids website today.)

Hilariously, she woke up four minutes before her time of birth: 1:51AM Friday. Troy and I were watching television and had forgotten momentarily what time it actually was – and then we heard her wake up, heard her start to fuss, and realized that, obviously, she’d woken up for her birthday.

(Yes, we subscribe to the mushiest, most supernatural, most fantastical explanations for a lot of things; but if you knew us, I think you’d agree.)

My baby girl was born on a snowy morning in the coldest month of the year. It was dark outside and dim in the hospital room when it was time for her to arrive.

Once she was born, she would hardly open her eyes; everything seemed so bright, and she would rather just shut her soft little eyelids and wait for a better time. The on-staff pediatricians struggled with checking her eyesight, because she absolutely was not in the mood to look at anything, especially not when there was a bright light shining right in her face.

She nursed well, and she slept well for such a wee thing. She cuddled with me and she cuddled with her daddy.

Two days after she was born, I went under anasthesia for a routine no-more-kids-thanks surgery, expecting to wake up in 20 minutes and go home the next morning.

Instead, I woke up with a sore throat and blurry eyes four hours later, parked behind the nurse’s station with four nurses working on me. It took them an hour to find my veins so they could run simultaneous IVs of magnesium. I was swollen up everywhere and could hardly breathe through my throat or my nose (I have a chronically stuffy nose anyway).

I wanted my husband, but it was so late he had to go to his factory job, even though he didn’t want to. I wanted my baby, and they brought her, crying, once he had to leave. I couldn’t reach her. I couldn’t feed her. I had to lie there helplessly, pinned down by mag lines and a catheter, as they fed her a bottle of formula.

It took me several days to pull through, and aside from almost dying during the surgery when my blood pressure spiked, I started to drift away late that night, the magnesium having become – quite suddenly – far too much for my body to handle. I barely pressed the nurse call button, unable to wake Troy where he had fallen asleep across the room because my voice was so tiny and quiet. By the time the nurses got there, I was willing myself to stay alive.

Everything got quiet in my head, and pillowy soft. As the nurses flipped buttons and tapped my arms and face and told me to ‘hang on,’ I thought about the reasons I ought to stay. I knew in my heart that everyone would be okay without me, but I chose to stay. For them. For myself. For whatever it is I need to do in this world. I chose to breathe, to live, to stay alive.

I’ve never regretted my decision, and tomorrow I will celebrate one year of being alive by my own choice.

Yes, it’s hard here. It sucks and things are ridiculous and hardly anything is ever fair. But I want to be here just the same.

Happy birthday to my darling girl child, and happy alive-day to me.

I still get excited by my birthday, even though this year I’m “mature” and “grown up” and – HAHAHA, sorry.

I’m going to be thirty-one! I still feel like a wet-behind-the-ears twenty-year-old! It’s almost LUDICROUS to me that I’ve managed to live this many years already.

My Mamow asked me what I want for my birthday, because to her, I’m still a granddaughter that needs a card and a cake and a birthday gift (and it makes me feel so SO special); and I had no idea what to ask for. None! (Besides, last year they gave me a HOUSE.)

So I thought about it and thought about it, and here are the things I’ve come up with (although I won’t be asking her for most of these, because she already does so much for us), in case YOU want to get me something! Because you love me! Because you love my blog! Because it’s my BIRTHDAY soon. ;)

• Amazon gift certificates (so I can buy books. If you’re a millionaire, you can buy me a Kindle.)
• Exotic, fair market, froo-froo coffee (PLEASE no decaf, lol)
• Exotic or imported beers, to enjoy after the kids are sleeping. *wink*
• Free babysitting! For a month’s worth of date nights.
• An hour-long massage from a professional.
• A month’s worth of chiropractic visits (these aren’t covered by my insurance anymore, wahh)

I also accept donations via Paypal. Heh. ;) (Srsly, let me know if this is something you want to do, and I’ll give you my Paypal email.)

But you know what I REALLY want?

To wake up happy because my family is all with me.
To sit in the sunshine awhile.
To cuddle with my husband and dream about our future.
To kiss my kids and go for a walk with them.
To eat a fancy meal at home.
To hug my Mamow and Papow.

:)

Numerous poop episodes that he didn’t have to clean up: WIN
Ice cream sundae for breakfast: WIN
Card from oldest son with acrostic of DAD: WIN (it says DINOSAUR AUSUM DAD, if you must know)
Cookout with family later today: WIN
Dinner out at pizza buffet: WIN
Sleeping in: FAIL (heh heh, maybe when the kids are older)

Happy Father’s Day, sweetie. We all love you. :)

I have nothing much to say today, because I am so darn tired from all that eating yesterday. :D Trust me, it’s a good kind of tired.

Today I have my nephew over for a while so my sister can be crazy and shop Black Friday sales (I am NEVER caught dead trying to negotiate traffic, whether on the roads or in the stores, on Black Friday), and I took the opportunity to get some really nice shots of all four kiddos in this fabulously bright snowy-day light we have here.

Enjoy… and feel free to click over to Flickr and leave comments on each photo, if you like.

In honor of National Talk Like a Scurvy Scallywag Day – I mean National Talk Like a Pirate Day, here are the long awaited photos of MY PIRATEY WEDDING!

ARRRR.

This isn’t all of them, by far – but these are the ones that one of my lovely best friends, Sarie, took (I did a few, but she took most) for us. The other ones number in the hundreds and still need going through and tweaking.

Enjoy! OR WALK THE PLANK!! Here is the link to the LOLPyrate Wedding Set at Flickr.

Hey guess what!  I just turned 30!!

Annnnd…. it’s kind of anti-climactic. I thought turning another decade old was supposed to be large and possibly upsetting, and at the very least somewhat change-ful. Is that a word?

I have all these Facebook wall posts and messages wishing me a happy birthday, and I’ve gotten a card in the mail already too. Actually I have kind of a neurosis about my birthday leftover from childhood, although (thankfully!) it doesn’t really bother me any more.

See, my brother and sister have birthdays during the summer also, but before mine. My brother’s is first, then two weeks later is my sister’s, then two weeks and two days later is mine. Usually grandparents would come visiting for one of their birthdays, but never mine, simply because it was the last one and that’s a lot of traveling for older relatives. I always felt weirdly left out, even though nobody treated me any differently, and I never received fewer gifts or cards or any less attention. Chalk it up to being ridiculously sensitive? It was only one set of grandparents, so in retrospect it seems REALLY silly.

Then, when I was a bit older (read: in my late teens and early twenties), I saw birthdays as a chance to have some extra attention, and to be able to ask for things I couldn’t have otherwise. Like money. Haha. Then I grew up a little and simultaneously realized that I could buy MY OWN stuff now, and also that extra birthday attention is actually kind of meaningless. I mean, it’s one day a year, right? If I need that much social interaction, then I can get it pretty much every day.

So now, there doesn’t seem to be much of a point to having a birthday any more.  Or maybe I haven’t figured out how to have a grownup birthday (I almost said ADULT BIRTHDAY but that sounds naughty, haha). Or MAYBE, it doesn’t actually matter.

In conclusion, it’s my birthday and I feel ambivalent about it! How do you feel on your birthdays? Is it different than you felt when you were a kid?