Today my beautiful Genevieve Ann turns 4.
The best thing about age 4? We’re all done with age 3, baby. Though I confess to misting up a bit today thinking about how 4 is definitely a kid, while 3 can still be kind of a toddler … sort of an in-between age. So she’s 4. That’s a big girl.
Four years ago today, I went to see my doctor, after having been on bed rest for a week, and a month before Viv was due, and she took a peek and said, OK, go home and get your bag. It’s show time. The baby who was due on Thanksgiving was born before Halloween. It was a very fast labor and an even faster delivery (woo hoo!). And there she was.
Look at that squishy sweet face. 5 pounds of perfect baby. (Except for how she cried nonstop for like a year. Let’s just gloss over that in our memories.)
This week we’ve talked a lot about being born.
“Mom, was I in your tummy?”
“What did I do in there?”
“You ate all my food! Piggy! All of it! I had to keep eating more, and you just kept eating it!”
She thinks this is super hilarious. She tells me she can remember it. Now she wants to know how she got out of my tummy … but I keep deflecting that. “You just did. Who wants some candy corn?”
She’s pretty much the best little girl ever. Hilarious, imaginative — so imaginative — and just wonderful.
Happy birthday, sweet girl.