Birthday!

Today is Ava's 1st birthday.  I danced all around the house this morning singing, "Hey Shorty, it's your birfday, we're gonna party like it's your birfday!"  Ava laughed at first, but then I could see my antics were wearing thin on her and she started to furrow her brow at me every time.  Ha.  That reaction actually fueled my fire so I sung louder and longer.  If we can't embarrass our kids what good are we?  Ahhhh Ava.  I remember this day last year....I am so thankful for my sassy, sweet, beautiful, smart and amazing daughter.

OK...the tale of 2 mornings...

I just got back from dropping Ava off for her "trial run" day at daycare.  She will be there through lunch and naptime and I will go pick her up at 2 pm.  I feel awful doing it on her birthday...but sometimes.... timing just sucks.  I start my new job next week (I will post on that later) :)  Anyway. I cried as I was packing up her stuff.  I was a hot mess.  Sobbing like a 1st grader with a skinned knee.  Blech.  OK.  I got it together before Ava got up for the day (she loves her sleep).  I got her all ready and loaded up in the car.  I drove to the daycare and I could feel my hands shaking.  Sigh. I took her into Miss Olga's room.  Got her set up.  Kissed her goodbye....and slipped out the door.  I turned to run back in and grab her....and another mom saw/caught me.  I smiled, turned and rushed past her.  She said, "You know, it does get easier."  I BURST into tears.  I started telling her in a squeaky rambling voice that only dogs and dolphins could understand that today was my first drop off and today is her birthday and I start a new job next week and I feel awful doing her test run on her birthday and I can't believe I am crying I can't believe I am crying I can't believe I am crying.  Good freaking Lord.  I hurried past her and hopped in my car and cried and cried...that ugly cry where your face gets all red and distorted.  Yup.  That's me. I drove to the Starbucks down the street and then sat in my car.  I'm sure I looked like a psycho.  I started to drive home and turned around and drove past her daycare again...and again.  And then I could hear myself say outloud, "Emily, get your shit together, sheesh!"  And I drove home.  I pick her up in 3 hours and 50 minutes.  I bet they have an office pool at the daycare as to how many times I will call....and how long it will take for me to call the first time.  Pretty sure.