Best Mom Ever Award!!

As we all know (if you've been reading this blog for any length of time), I have been attempting to receive this award for quite some time and I finally figured it out; there's no way in you know where that I can win it these days, but there was definitely a point in time when I could have:

Seriously. I know I was puffy, but damn I was a good mom on that day and in the nine months leading up to it. I had all the mothering stuff figured out. This pic was taken minutes before we left for Duke hospital to have my drug free delivery. No epidural for me; I didn't want my baby coming out of the womb "high" and I have a high tolerance for pain, so I wouldn't need drugs. Seriously. I made it all the way to like two or three centimeters before I was begging for an epidural. Like I said, "high" tolerance........

And fortunately for me, that epidural came in handy when certain people's heart rate dropped and she had to be delivered via c-section.

Okay so one tiny setback. No harm, no foul. I still had the mothering thing down. 

Baby blues?

Puffy Girl wouldn't get those. She wanted to be a mom for too long and had always been good with kids, so no worries on that.  She expected nothing but dressing baby girl in cute outfits and extreme happiness for the years to follow. She didn't cry for weeks and weeks on end. Nope. Not her. She just had something in her eye......

Oh and she was so ready to nurse. She read the books, hired lactation specialists, and had the LaLeche league on speed dial. Literally. She was going to breast feed come hell or high water. Only one small problem - Little girl did not buy into the whole "breast is best" theory. She liked the milk just fine, but took extreme issues with the tap. Extreme.

Crap. 

Here are some more lies I told myself during my best parenting year of not yet parenting ever. I'm still amazed at how bright I was then!

1. Baby would never sleep in the bed with me. Never.

2. Baby would be a great napper. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

3. Puffy Girl would never let her children eat in the car.

4. She would NEVER drive a minivan.

5.  Did I mention she would never ever ever drive a minivan?

6. She would never yell. She may raise her voice from time to time, but never yell.

7. She would never forget a doctor's appointment, or send her kid to school sick, or be late through the carpool line, or forget a kid at church, or break down in the middle of the grocery store, or let her kids whine and talk back, or forget field days or snack days, or pick her kids up from preschools still in her pajamas, etc etc.

8. Bribery was for stupid parents. She would never do that.

9. All healthy foods all the time. No junk. And especially no bribery with junk.

10. And best of all, she would love every moment of every day. Every SINGLE moment. Of that she was sure. She would not be one of those moms who griped and didn't enjoy every blessed moment with their beautiful little cherubs.

Enter baby girl.
My sweet diva.

We have taught each other a thing or two over the years.

We have shed some tears together. And as you creep up on your teenage years, I'm sure we'll shed many more.

But you, my first born, gave me the best gift of all on December 6, 2004.

You came out of the womb and sucker punched me in the face with a dose of reality.

You said "I'll take all your preconceived romantic notions on mothering and raise you a billion temper tantrums, potty training from Hell, no naps, no nursing, and all that with a stubborn attitude thrown in."

You threw your head back and laughed an evil little laugh and said, "Mwa ha ha, Mommy Dearest, you still loving every minute of every day?"

And to that I say, "heck no, little girl. There are moments of every day that I want to throw in the towel, climb into a remote closet, pour a glass of wine, and pretend I'm on an island somewhere. But dang little girl, you introduced me to the world of mothering and even though I may not love every single moment, I love every single fiber of your being. So thank you for coming into my world, turning it upside down, and teaching me that I may not be the perfect parent I dreamed I would be during the best not yet parenting year of my life, but honestly I kind of dig the way we're each growing and learning as we go along. I like the good times and the mistakes and the I'm sorry's and the forgiveness and the grace we have to share with each other. Because that's what family and real parenting is - knowing each other inside and out, and loving each other, flaws and all."

And you, Little Girl, you make me laugh. 

You frustrate me.

You infuriate me.

You delight me.

You amaze me.

You make me smile.
You help me.
You challenge me.
But most of all, you love the real me.
Almost as much as I love the real you.

You started this journey that I'm blessed to call my life. You made us into a little family and you've been there every step of the way as we've grown from three people with a dog to five people, two dogs, two dead fish, one fish that refuses to die, one summer sister, too many cousins to count, and lots and lots of chaos.

So Happy Eighth Birthday, Sweet and Sassy Little Girl!

Now for the love of all things, slow down on this whole growing thing!

Please?