My baby boy turns two tomorrow. At this time two years ago, I'd transferred to the hospital about 30 minutes previous and would have currently been in a Pitocin-induced hell, lying flat on my back in a miserable hospital bed. It's a real shame his birth was such an unpleasant event, but it was what it was and I've learned to accept it. I am incredibly grateful to have my sweet son and he is the most amazing person I've ever had the privilege to be around. I wish he could have had the gentle, loving birth that I wanted him to have but things don't always work out like we hope. In the end, it is enough for me that he is here, sleeping peacefully in the bedroom. I love that boy more than I ever knew I could love anyone.
Me, a grubby-faced Moo, P-Cat, and our dog Foo:
I made him yellow cupcakes from a Duncan Hines mix but something was off because they came out smelling like corn muffins, not yellow-cakey sweetness. So I chunked those and whipped up another batch of yellow cupcakes (this time from scratch, using a Betty Crocker recipe). These ones better turn out good, otherwise I'm just going to buy him a damned bakery cake tomorrow.
Via
lafemmedesfemme who's been all linky-goodness recently,
an entry about one woman's experience with a truly considerate human being written by
saoba. Worth the read, bring tissues if you're in a sensitive mood at the moment.
And from
today's Qwantz cartoon, an awesome quote: "Your sympathy is as useless as the berries in Super Mario World, by which I mean, only good for Yoshis."