ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Happy 5th Birthday, Jameson! Today Jameson Christian Michael is FIVE! I can't believe it. Five years ago today... I went to my OB-GYN appointment, where I was told Jameson wouldn't be born for another couple of weeks. Four and a half hours later, I was being rushed through traffic to get to the hospital. Jameson was born five hours later. He shot out as soon as my water was broken. The doctor exclaimed, "He's so LITTLE!" (I was huge, so everyone was expecting a nine pound baby) Kevin said, "He's GORGEOUS!" I said, "He's OUT!" He had a ring of black hair around the back of his head and his skin looked like he was just been sunning himself at the beach. Now, my "baby" is sitting on the couch eating his birthday breakfast, which consists of his choices - Tostitos, Teddy Grahams and apple juice. After all, you only turn five once. Yeah, yeah.. I'm a lousy mother. Tell me something I don't know. I added some more pictures of J's birthday "bash" here! Not much of a bash, but... I'm still recovering from moving. I was simply too fucked up to throw a party. I feel as if I should apologize for not updating this diary more often. Whenever I'm going about my day, I always think to myself... "I really should go update that diary!" I always feel such guilt toward "my people" who check to see if I've updated. It amazes me why anyone would want to read my mindless drivel. I'm really very ordinary. I'm not at all exciting or talented. I drive my kids to school every damn day, I'm a horrible cook and I do a mean load of laundry. I have no redeeming qualities whatsoever. But if you enjoy reading about bounced checks to grocery stores and the various colors/textures of excrement found in a two year old's diaper, this is the diary for you. Griffin is feeling much better. During his illness, he developed the annoying habit of waking in the middle of the night, leaping out of his crib onto our bed and hitting me until I wake up. I then must accompany him downstairs so that he may fall back to sleep on my chest as we lie on the couch. We then return upstairs to complete our sleep. Walking down stairs is not something I do well in the wee hours, especially while holding a 28 pound toddler. Hopefully, this ritual will soon come to an end. I had a dream last night that Clay asked me to marry him. Naturally, being a red blooded woman, I excitedly said yes. The pesky issue of my already being married never entered my mind. Well, my exciting day awaits. 10:04 a.m. - 2003-09-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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