"Here we are at Peter's Doughnuts." Excerpt from Bob and Doug Mckenzie's Great White North album that frequently pops into my head.
Today I celebrated my baby's 4th birthday with my children. I think she had a good time---she got her ears pierced (I had nothing to do with that decision) and got to go to birthday breakfast with me, her sibs, her dad, uncle and paternal g-parents. Tonight she had chocolate cake with mint chip ice cream and went to bed having a tantrum which must mean she was pretty tuckered out. It seems like only yesterday that I was pushing that little bundle of energy out of me (sans epidural all for the experience of knowing that I could.) The first words out of my mouth after she came out were "THAT TOTALLY SUCKED!" I know... so poetic. The scientologists would be disappointed in me for not having a more silent experience. But she was so cute...tons of hair and teeny. She ended up being the smallest of my four which earned her the nickname Pixie-Poo. I do hope and pray that I can be a good mother to her (and the others for that matter.) She is highly sensitive, like me, and sneaky just like her older brother Liam. I swear those two could easily form their own recon outfit. Man, I wish kids came with instruction manuals...
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