Sugar…

Aw, honey, honey, 

This weekend, my baby turned two.  (I’ve said this once before, of course, when I thought Mowgli was my baby.  But this time, I mean it.  My baby.  Last child.  This is it.  Four is enough.  Baby.)

During my labor with Shortcake: 

1.  I told Hercules on the way to the hospital, “you can speed, you know.”

2.  The truck alarm was jammed and alarming in the hospital parking lot.  The entire time.

3.  I sang some strange, moaning, labor song.  (And also, I screamed really loud.)

4.  I surrendered.

When I first held her, I felt it.  She had brought with her, just for me, this incredible force of freedom.  I still am overwhelmed with emotion every time I think of that first few moments together.  It was beyond powerful.  With each labor/delivery before hers, I had felt that life force take over, had felt the freedom of surrender.  Natural childbirth, eventually, leaves you no other choice.  (It says, surrender to me, weakling.  And then it beats the shit out of you.)  But I had never before allowed it to linger.  This time, I did. 

These two years have reinforced that theme.  I’ve learned that life with four children leaves me no other choice.  There is only surrender and be.  (“There is no try,” says Yoda.)  And surprisingly, what “should” make me feel bound and helpless, only brings me incredible freedom.  I feel free from the expectations of . . . well . . .  just about everyone and everything, including myself.  It’s strange, really.  A paradox.  She is actually my “neediest” child, what some call clingy, and others call attachment parented.  But her presence, to me, says freedom.  Maybe I should call her “Braveheart.”

I’m just kidding.  About the Braveheart thing.

Because I’m tired.

Because I’m trying to write a novel.

I took the picture below as she was painting on rocks in the driveway the other day.  Oh… this!  Smile!  She just has this fantastically passionate energy.  Funny and dancey and lovey and wonderful.  I can barely handle the sweetness.

For the above picture, I had to grab an old memory card that I hadn’t used in a while.  I checked the adorable grown-up-kid shot on the LCD, the clicked the back button.  THIS.  THIS!  Is what I saw:

So, yeah, maybe I did cry (not a happy cry) like a blathering idiot when I saw the positive pregnancy test.  And so yeah, maybe I did cry myself to sleep often during that first trimester.  But gAWd, am I glad she’s here, my little honey, honey.