Eight years ago, I was vomiting.
Pleasant thought, eh? But I know, those last few days leading up to Katie's birth were full of throwing up. I remember telling her in utero, you better be a great baby, because this pregnancy sucks.
Well, she wasn't THAT easy of a baby. Not hard, I think, looking back, but not easy. She was sick from about 4 months on, which led to lots and lots of nebulizer breathing treatments. Then around 9 months, she started throwing tantrums so hard that she'd pop the blood vessels in her face. She didn't crawl until 11 months, didn't walk until 15 months, adding to our worry. And my SIL recalls her screaming and screaming any time she babysat for us.
But, what I remember more, is sitting on the floor with a baby Katie, in front of the bookcase, reading book after book. I remember dancing to whatever video was on CMT every morning while we were getting ready. I remember her big brown eyes looking up at us, melting my heart. I remember Jay doing homework with Katie in the crook of his arm. I remember the "mama" and "dada" and the time she turned "walk" into a bad bad cuss word. I remember her laughing so hard that she'd vomit, and I'd think, "That's fair." :)
Now my little Katie is turning 8. She's just such a GOOD kid. She's one of those kids teachers love. Yes, she still has her sassy moments here, but a quick reminder to show us respect, and we get an apology and an attempt to do better. She helps out her sisters, probably too much. She wants to help everything and everyone. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and gets her feelings hurt often. She's so much like me in so many ways, which is bad in that we argue more but good in that I really do know how she feels. I love her with all my heart and soul, and thank God every day for giving me my Katie-bug.
Happy Birthday, Katherine!