My Last Baby is four years old today.
She was due on April Fool’s Day, but she pranked us all by turning badly breech at the last minute, something my OB discovered on March 30th when she couldn’t find the heartbeat of the creature who was trying to kick—or punch, as it turns out—the ultrasound wand out of her hand. So, we did the C-section thing the next morning.*
To this day, Sunny hates being upside-down.
But she loves stories, tv, crawling into bed with Mommy and Daddy, Barbies, her piggy footie jammies, her sister (most of the time), when I sing songs wrong so she can correct me,** finding Tickles,*** drawing, and her little bicycle, which she kicks off as if she was riding a 500 Triumph.
She is Shirley Temple reincarnated, with a dash of Cool Hand Luke. And a picky eater like whoa.
Happy Birthday, peanut!
*To further the joke, they originally scheduled the surgery for the following Friday. So I went back to the library and worked out my schedule and maternity leave with our HR person. The minute I sat down at my desk, the phone rang and a cheerful voice asked, “How would you like to have your baby at nine-thirty tomorrow morning?” Um . . . okay. So I trudged back up to Admin to change all the paperwork. But she’s worth it.
**Twinkle, twinkle, little elephant
How is it that you’re so elegant?
Up above the world so high,
Sneezing stars out of the sky . . .
(you should hear what I do to poor ol’ Yankee Doodle . . . )
***Tickles are purple and live in armpits, but sometimes you have to chase them back home over ribs and tummies.