Happy Birthday
Emerson is one year old today. I can't believe it!
It has been a strange day -- part of me is actually a bit sad. In the sense that I'm never going to see her as a little baby ever again. It should be exciting - I look at early photos of her when she was floppy and unable to smile or hold her head up or sit, and think Wow, she was so boring then. She's a year closer to being able to feed and toilet herself. A year closer to reading and expressing her needs articulately rather than crying or screaming. So my slight sadness doesn't make sense.
Probably part of what I am interpreting as sadness is probably pride and anticipation. I can't wait to get to know her. There is a wide variety of personalities in our family - so she could be anything, really. Will she be like me - conscientious, snarky, and neurotic? Will she be like her dad - filled with all kinds of practical wisdom, quick wit, and patience? Her big brother Thomas - an artist and an encyclopedia of knowledge? Her big brother Scott - shining on stage and in any political discussion? Her quiet grandma or disc-jockey grandpa? Her back-office worker uncle or marketing pro aunt?
All I really know about her so far is that she recognizes laughter when she hears it and chimes right in. And that she constantly has to know what is going on around her - so much so that she can't sleep if there are new people around because they might be fun and she might miss out. These are great qualities and they make me love being around her so much.
I've been kind of an emotional sap lately -- I got teary at the end of the book Em got for her birthday because the hippo was all alone. I got teary at the curtain call of Scott's musical last night because I know they have been working so hard and they all looked so proud about the amazing job they had just done and to be finally recognized publically for it. I get teary when one of my Youth & Govt kids puts their whole self into a speech to get people to vote for their bill or looks proud when hitting the gavel against the desk to adjourn the session. I'll pull out of it and go back to my usual staid self. I'm saying this because I hope to be back to my regularly scheduled voice of outrage soon enough. Possible topic - Why do nurses make such a big deal about dads bringing their own children to the doctor? They are working women...have they worked all this time plus taken off for every personal errand their child needs and never expected their husbands to do the same or didn't have husbands who WANTED to? We have come so far....
It has been a strange day -- part of me is actually a bit sad. In the sense that I'm never going to see her as a little baby ever again. It should be exciting - I look at early photos of her when she was floppy and unable to smile or hold her head up or sit, and think Wow, she was so boring then. She's a year closer to being able to feed and toilet herself. A year closer to reading and expressing her needs articulately rather than crying or screaming. So my slight sadness doesn't make sense.
Probably part of what I am interpreting as sadness is probably pride and anticipation. I can't wait to get to know her. There is a wide variety of personalities in our family - so she could be anything, really. Will she be like me - conscientious, snarky, and neurotic? Will she be like her dad - filled with all kinds of practical wisdom, quick wit, and patience? Her big brother Thomas - an artist and an encyclopedia of knowledge? Her big brother Scott - shining on stage and in any political discussion? Her quiet grandma or disc-jockey grandpa? Her back-office worker uncle or marketing pro aunt?
All I really know about her so far is that she recognizes laughter when she hears it and chimes right in. And that she constantly has to know what is going on around her - so much so that she can't sleep if there are new people around because they might be fun and she might miss out. These are great qualities and they make me love being around her so much.
I've been kind of an emotional sap lately -- I got teary at the end of the book Em got for her birthday because the hippo was all alone. I got teary at the curtain call of Scott's musical last night because I know they have been working so hard and they all looked so proud about the amazing job they had just done and to be finally recognized publically for it. I get teary when one of my Youth & Govt kids puts their whole self into a speech to get people to vote for their bill or looks proud when hitting the gavel against the desk to adjourn the session. I'll pull out of it and go back to my usual staid self. I'm saying this because I hope to be back to my regularly scheduled voice of outrage soon enough. Possible topic - Why do nurses make such a big deal about dads bringing their own children to the doctor? They are working women...have they worked all this time plus taken off for every personal errand their child needs and never expected their husbands to do the same or didn't have husbands who WANTED to? We have come so far....
posted by Amanda Shankle-Knowlton | 6:46 PM
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