August 04 2009
Growing up, I was never the girliest of girls. Instead of playing with dolls, you could usually find me involved in a game of wiffle ball with my brother. I was an excellent tree climber and mud pie maker. I would trample through the forests around my parents’ house and not care if I came back dirty and gross. Most of my friends were neighborhood boys and we would ride our bikes across gravel roads for hours on end.
This is why I’ve always felt more conditioned to being the mother of boys.
When I found out I was pregnant with a girl, I would wonder (almost worry) if she would epitomize all things frilly and sparkly. Or if she would be just as happy stomping through mud puddles.
So far, Abby has become a pint-sized fashion diva; if she doesn’t care for the dress she’s currently wearing, she’ll try to take it off. She gravitates towards pink. She likes to have her hair brushed. She lights up when someone calls her pretty. She has a fetish for shoes. She doesn’t like to be messy. She’s gentler, yet more demanding. She’s cute and she knows it.
She’s a definite girl. A frilly, sparkly little girl. Who hopefully won’t mind stomping through a few mud puddles as she grows older.
July 24 2009
Dear Abby,
Exactly one year ago, we were just beginning to know each other after the quickest midnight labor imaginable. I had asked for pain medication, but there wasn’t even time to have it administered. You were just as anxious to join us as we were to meet you, apparently. For most of that first day, you slept soundly in your hospital bassinet while I, at a point beyond exhaustion, couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I kept looking at you, watching you breathe, waiting for you to stir.
Some things never change. You have yet to let me get a good night’s sleep, although now it’s for different reasons. Can we promise to work on that in the next few months, maybe? Mommy’s tired.
In all honesty, a year later and I still can’t take my eyes off of you.
There is so much I want to share about you, but it would never be enough. You are my pretty girl. My silly girl. My very vocal little girl. You are strong and opinionated. You and Buzz are partners in crime, following in one another’s mischievous footsteps. You wrinkle your nose when you’re happy. You give wet, sloppy kisses when asked. The little hair you have is starting to curl at the end. You’re already saying a few words. You are the constant center of attention. You have us wrapped around your chubby little finger.
You are hilarious. It is impossible to explain just how funny you are. You will do anything for a laugh; from walk around with a card stuck to your foot, to funny faces, to peek-a-boos around corners, to raspberries on my belly, to chases down the hallway. Your laughter is contagious. Your joy is infectious. Whenever I have a bad moment, all I need to do is see you smile and the day is instantly brighter. You have no idea how grateful I am for that. For you.
I did not teach you how to point like that, despite what your grandmother would lead you to believe. That is 100% you.
Every day, I am amazed and blessed and so very proud to be your mother. I love you, Abby. Happy 1st Birthday.
July 21 2009
Will you guys be quiet, can’t you see I’m trying to nap over here?
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
