Spin Me I Pulsate.

At 6:52AM August 11 you made your entrance accompanied by MUCH swearing and screaming by your mother.

She was terrified.

From the first moment that those little lines appeared after many bras broken, to the water breaking after one particularily obnoxious trip to the mall, she was scared. What did she know about kids?

BUBKISS, that's what.

She spent two days in the hospital bleeding and feeling quite lightheaded.

Breastfeeding didn't work, and besides, we had all those formula bottles that we stole from the hospital. They were very eager to demonstrate how those worked. Sadly, my boobs didn't merit the same attention.

When we took you home, you looked so small in your carseat, so fragile and tiny. But so perfect. We wondered to ourselves how we created such a perfect little thing.

One day, weeks later, as you lay smiling at nothing and everything, I remarked to myself that all I wanted for you, the thing that I would tear my eyes out for, was your happiness. I didn't care how, I just wanted it. I wanted the broad grin to last forever and ever, and your heart to never know pain.

Today on the bus home, I thought about you growing older, and how desperate I am to seal you in wax and preserve you as you are right now. This bundle of love and joy and sheer emotion I cannot contain-I love every inch of you, even your black moods and anger, I love it all.

I watch from a distance somedays as you just are. I marvel at the fact that 3 short years ago, you were a pain in my belly, your were a brand new life in my arms, this confusing, LOUD little thing who wouldn't let me watch the season opener of Alias. I sit teary eyed knowing far to well what my father meant when he told me that it all passes far too quickly.

You are no longer a baby. And I mourn what I have let pass.

But I am joyous to see the next year, to help you grow and learn and become even more the woman you will someday be. I am so proud to be your mother that somedays I think I'll just implode from all the fuzzy happy thoughts about how damn cool my kid it.

And I still only want one thing-your happiness. And a pony. :)

I love you Honey-Boo. Happy Third Birthday.

Posted by thordora on Thursday, August 10, 2006 at 9:32 p.m. | Permalink