Tuesday, February 01, 201112 years ago today, I was walking up the stairs in our house in Phoenix and thought I peed my pants.
Turns out it was my water breaking. So I had dinner and took a shower and moseyed on down to the hospital where a mere 18 hours, one incorrectly installed epidural and one vacuum extractor later, The Kid arrived in this world*. All 10 pounds, 3 ounces of him.
(like normal people, we celebrated his birthday eve with a trip to the eye doctor)
Since his birthday is on a weekday, we'll just go out to eat and then do the cake and ice cream at home with a party to be determined at a later date**.
This brings me back to my 12th birthday I was so excited to get a Cabbage Patch Kid... and slightly less excited when my mom took me to her favorite cowboy bar.
Yep, she took a 12-year-old to a bar. And a country bar at that! And the country band they knew made the whole bar sing "Happy Birthday"***. And after giving me virgin Pina Coladas all night, someone thought it would be cute to give the pre-teen an alcoholic Pina Colada.
The upside to stories like this? It makes me feel like my parenting skills are less questionable.
*fun fact: February 2nd is Groundhog's Day - I always joke that I was worried about him seeing his shadow and going back in for 6 more weeks. It's funnier now than it was then because he was already 2 weeks late, so any further delay was a serious concern.
**I'm seriously phoning it in on this birthday - with losing my dad and all, I just can't seem to dredge up anything remotely Martha Stewart-esque this year
*** Honestly, that was the worst part, I would rather eat glass than have an entire establishment single me out in that way.
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting