Hi! Sorry for the silence… I had a bit of a stomach flu thingy going on. Better now. Blech.
I failed to mention, on the 27th, that my blog is now three years old. Yes… three years. I can’t think of anything I’ve stuck with for three years. Except my family. And my job. And my cat. And some of my friends. And my apartment… ok, I lie. I do many things for more than three years. But not usually of the hobby variety. Except read, I’ve always done that. Ok, ignore me.
To celebrate, I will tell you a story about birth. Last Friday, Louise went to a Mariner’s game with me, my mom and her husband Bob. This was Louise’s first major league baseball game. In truth, I think she had more fun than she expected, in terms of the game itself. But in the car, on the way to the game, my mom told us about her patient, and her theory on birth and personality. She, the patient, believes that a certain amount of your personality is determined by the circumstances at your birth. Example: easy birth, easy baby, and so on. I don’t know if this is true, but my mom did give it some thought. My older brother’s birth was pretty text book, she says, but almost immediately they had to worry about him. He was sent to Children’s there were complications, he had to be monitored, blah blah blah, drama. Take that as you will. Now me… I was two and a half weeks late. Also, I had not dropped down, the way babies are supposed to before birth, I guess. My mom said I was stubborn and reluctant, I liked it inside where it was warm and dark, and I would not be rushed. Yup… sounds about right. I liked sleeping in from the very beginning. But I guess finally I dropped and came out. When I was good and ready. I suppose I just expect everyone to be ready when I finally am.
I’m not sure I buy into the theory, I’m sure there are perfectly wonderful, splendid laid back people who had very scary and emotional births. This blogs birth was pretty natural. I don’t even remember making the decision. Just… BAMF! One day I started a blog. Didn’t even need an epidural. And… that’s the end of the story. You know, I thought it would be more exciting when I started it. Oh well… I’ve been sick. *cough cough* you can’t blame me *cough* I’m still weak.
According to my mom, I was a month late. I say the the doctor can’t add worth shit since I am always early.
Welcome back to the living.
I will spend the rest of the night wondering which complication of pregnancy or child birth caused my daughter to be so… unique.
My mother says, “You pay for your raise’n wit your own!” Which apparently means, the reason your child is bad is to punish you for being so bad. 🙂
i was born early, but now i’m fashionably late to many things.