Booger turns two today.
And speaking of unmedicated births and things in my stomach, I remember it like yesterday…
And they called her Duck Beak Belly.
I didn’t plan to have Booger on the 10th, although that was her official due date. But my doctor lured me into his office, knowing that from there, he could get me to the hospital, which was next door. I’m still pissed. I’d have liked to wait until my cervix opened on its own like a gentle flower, instead of being pruned by Pitocin.
I have a few images from laboring still fixed in my mind: a sprig of blood on my sock, Deal or No Deal blaring from the TV, and almost birthing Booger on the toilet.
Why do I do that?
It really was a beautiful thing.
My garden gnome, home from the hospital.
We could leave her here for hours. Something about the changing table cracked her up. And, it was cheaper than a babysitter.
She loves pink, so I go with it, despite my predilection to dress my kids in neutrals. (Because I’m an edgy, urban mom.)
She loves water.
Is even a member of our local “Fountaineers” club.
She’s a girly girl. Digs flowers.
She’ll shill for pretzels.
And is an all-around sweet, precious jewel.
Happy birthday Booger (and booger)! Mama loves you.