Two years ago last night I texted a good friend right before I went to bed. She was in labor and I assumed she'd have a new baby when I woke up in the morning. I told her I was thinking about her, wished her good luck, and fell asleep.
Of course, my water broke a few hours later around midnight and I was the one with a new baby in the morning, two weeks early. My friend had her baby later on in the day, a few days late. Because I feel like the universe owes me, here's a link to THAT story.
But really, the universe ponied up with Emma, my precious third baby, and I am continually - no really - amazed at the universe's generosity. She is such a delight to our family that sometimes I'll think back to the time of Third Baby Negotiations and feel panicky. What if... ugh, let's not think about it. Plus that line of thinking tends to make me consider Fourth Baby and sheesh, let's not do that today either.
At two years old, Emma is feisty, cheery, talkative, and makes certain you are aware of her presence. Has there been a noisier baby? No, there has not. At all hours of the day and night this kid is running her mouth. It makes more sense in the daytime - "Wash hands! I do it! Shoes! My Dora! Hi Daddy! BREAKFASSSSSSSSS!" - and drives us to tears in the nighttime. What we have here is not so much talking in one's sleep as whining and moaning and groaning and also singing and hollering in one's sleep. She's also a mama's (and daddy's) girl and shy and suspicious of new people, the better to lead them to believe she's sweet and quiet and demure. HA HA HA.
We had a lovely family brunch on Saturday with peach French toast (KILLER RECIPE, PEOPLE) and rainbow cake and mimosas and plenty of Dora-themed birthday gifts. Today, on her actual birthday, we spent a quiet morning with our birthday buddies and blew out candles on an apple crisp. The birthday girl is now passed out in bed, sleeping off the sugar.
I am so very tremendously thrilled to spend this year at home with Emma. I am so thankful.