Two years ago today my water broke, the kitchen cabinets were installed, and my life hasn't been the same since (and if you think there are not still random kitchen gadgets boxed up in the basement, you are sadly mistaken).
Gabriel, of course, has no real idea what it means that today is his birthday. This morning I hugged and kissed him, told him "Happy Birthday, sweetie" about 600 times, and sang to him on the way to school. And in return I got a lovely scowl (I took a picture but forgot my usb cable- will post later). Perhaps the school party this afternoon will bring him around. One can only hope.
The last two years have taught me that unconditional love is not a myth; that spit/poo/pee/vomit/snot from another person, while very gross, will not actually kill you; and that during all those years I claimed I would never have kids because I didn't want kids because I would be a terrible mom- I was wrong.
Happy Birthday, sweetie!