My Real Life

Four years ago, last night, I was at my friend, Tara’s house.

It was a Friday night and I had just completed my last day of work before my maternity leave.

We were watching teen dance movies to gear up for our full-day play rehearsal the next day.

I was gearing up to get my 9 month pregnant self off the couch and go home, when Tara’s husband, Scott, asked if I had ever seen The Family Guy.  I hadn’t.

So, they showed me what they considered to be one of the funniest episodes.  The one that starts with the guys having an ipecac swallowing contest, where they all puke all over each other.

Juvenile.

Disgusting.

One of the freaking funniest things I’ve ever seen.

I laughed so hard, I couldn’t breathe.  I almost peed.  I didn’t.  But, almost.

An hour later, at my house, my water broke.

I never actually went into labor, but with the broken water, they needed to get the baby out.

After two c-sections, we went for the third, and a few hours later, we met Baby Monkey.

Unfortunately, I have no photos to share of Baby Monkey at his babiest. 

All of his photos were on the computer which crashed, taking them all with it.

But, here he is at about 6 months old.

Dear God.

Look at him.

He wasn’t always this happy.

When he was brand new, until he was about three months old, he was a crier.

Not all the time.

Just from 10:17 pm through 1:49 am.

Every. Single. Night.

We had to stand and bounce him in a particular V-shaped bounce to settle him, and if you deviated from the pattern…Lord help you.

But, he grew. 

He continues to grow.

He is 100% his own little person.

He’s ridiculously laid back.

He’s a chatterbox.

He’s hysterical.

He’s snuggly.

He’s my baby.

And today, he turned four.

He blew out his candles.

He opened his presents.

Tomorrow?

He’ll look a little bigger, be a little taller, and be that much closer to 5.

Oh, my baby.