I am so happy to report that we had a good day. Finally. FINALLY. Gracie's mystery rash and newborn nursing schedule aside, this family of mine had a really good day yesterday. I hoped. I prayed. It came true. I was up late Saturday cooking and baking, but we all got up and made it to church. Having a baby girl on Easter is so much fun. I picked her dress out last month, and I've been on pins and needles waiting for her to wear it. James' ovaries exploded when he saw her all dressed up and with pigtails, and he doesn't even have ovaries! I successfully wore heels for the first time in years. G has been skipping her morning naps lately due to these evil things called teeth, but she couldn't even keep her eyes open during church and fell asleep in the car during the last 30 seconds of the ride home, no matter how much noise James and I made. Isn't that always how it goes? My parents came over for Easter lunch and a little birthday party for Gracie, and the babe napped while we adults ate the meal I cooked that thankfully turned out quite well. I made our traditional family birthday cake (it tastes so much better than it looks), and we sang to Gracie and blew her candle out. We opened her presents, and I think I had more fun than I did on my own birthday. This kid has so many books! And shirts with cats on them! My parents are moving in a few days, and it was so nice to have them over one last time to celebrate and cook for them. I'm finding that I love cooking for people, as terrified as it makes me. Want to come over for dinner? You're invited. Just don't sue me if you get food poisoning.
According to the internet, we are probably the worst parents ever. I am the antithesis of Pinterest. I wasn't even going to do an Easter basket until G's great-grandparents sent her a stuffed bunny, so I threw it in my childhood Easter basket and called it a day. She loved it and hugged her bunny all day. I blew up a couple pink and purple balloons to tie on the chairs for her little birthday party, but I was so confused as to why they were falling on the floor instead of floating. James had to remind me it's because they're filled with my breath and not helium. In the words of my mother, that's the brain of a mother who's been taking care of a teething, sleep-deprived child. I'M TIRED, Y'ALL.
I have almost ZERO memories of last Easter. I remember one thing: pineapple cake. My mom made the most delicious pineapple cake for me. She told me she held the baby while they all ate at the table and I laid on the couch because I was still in so much pain. Only after she said that did I have the vaguest memory. Those first few weeks are such a blur. I never even put Gracie in her Easter dress because I was still crawling up the stairs and unable to sit up, and survival was all I could think about. This Easter more than made up for it. Now it's time to emotionally prepare myself for Gracie's first birthday tomorrow. A year ago today I woke up smacked with contractions from the bowels of hell but still managed to convince myself I must've eaten too much pizza the night before. Denial is a beautiful thing. Now, where's my party for keeping her alive for a year? I could use one. I'm exhausted!