Happy Birthday Kate!
My baby turns one today. My baby. My teeny, tiny little "Kitter Kat" (or "Titter Tat" as Joey says) is one year old.
I'm feeling all sorts of things. I'm thrilled that she's turning one. Thrilled to be done with sleepless nights (she started sleeping through the night three whole days ago after a huge and nearly successful effort to be the oldest baby EVER not to sleep through the night). I'm thrilled to be done with baby food purees and pacifiers that fall on the floor and spit-up soaked clothes (mine, not hers). I'm also sad. Sad that we're done with rocking a sleeping baby on my chest (she's too busy to put up with that holding still stuff) and sad that before long, she'll be a walking, talking "big girl" with the attitude to show for it.
One thing I'm NOT feeling is the baby bug (I'm hearing a collective sigh of relief from everyone who has spent any time with me while I'm pregnant). When Joey turned one, I got the baby bug bad. My baby wasn't a baby and I needed another one....and four days later I was pregnant. This time, no way. I'd love another baby, but I know better. I know what it's like to be pregnant with a one-year-old underfoot. I have not forgotten this time.
So, I'm ready. I'm ready to make the transition to a baby-less house. A house where there aren't any sing-songy baby toys or breast pump parts drying on the dish rack. I'm ready to say that I have two kids... not two babies. I'm ready. Even if I wasn't, I don't really have a choice, do I?
Happy Birthday, Katers. I thank God for my precious baby girl every single day... and I fall more in love with you every moment I spend with you. I can't wait to see what this year will bring.
