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"... And I Love Her"

November 19, 2008 - Jennifer Brookens
Just like this year, it was a Sunday night, going into a Monday; five years ago exactly. The contractions were becoming more painful and more frequent. She was finally on her way on her own, nearly 10 days past her due date.

Monday's Child is Fair of Face, and she was indeed the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. She didn't look like a plucked chicken like many newborns do... she had a full head of beautiful dark hair, and her eyes were already alert and taking in everything around her at 5:20 p.m., five minutes after her official arrival into the world. Both my husband and I were in love... there was no other way to describe it. I was weak, exhausted and in pain, but I was also elated.

The first year of her life is a blur to me, because I hardly paid attention to anything except her. She was my complete world, and became the centerpiece for my parents as well. Her grandparents moved from Wyoming to Truman that summer to be closer to us and that baby. It turned out to be one of the biggest blessings for all involved.

Every parent is proud of their child, but what never ceases to amaze me is how this girl manages to latch onto life lessons that some adults can't even seem to grasp. From the deaths of her grandfathers, to helping others by donating our extra food and toys to the Salvation Army, she got it. Even with her birthday bowling party, when I showed her the invitations, and she came to the part that said "no gifts necessary." "No gifts," she cried out. I explained we just want these friends to come out and have fun with us (Of course, bribing her with the fact that Mommy, Daddy and Gramma would be giving her gifts probably softened the blow too.) But again, she got it. She was just as excited to be filling "goodie" bags for her friends to take home once the party was over.

It's moments like those which make me realize I must not be a total lost cause in the parenting department. Or maybe I was just blessed with phenomiminal kids who can survive a less-than-perfect parenting style.

Whatever the case, five years later, and I'm more in love than ever. Bless You, Kaycie, my girl. Happy Birthday.

 
 

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