Today is a celebration of a first and a last, for me. My baby girl is one today, and today is the LAST first birthday we will celebrate at our house. First birthdays are always such a time for me to remember my children's actual birth and that experience. I guess, perhaps, because I can still remember well what it was like to be pregnant, and how I felt during the time of their birth. By the second birthday most of that has become more of a cloudy memory, rather than a very clear one. And, perhaps, Georgia being my last, I will remember more vividly the details of her birth. That, and it was short and drug free, therefore there is less to remember and there isn't a narcotic induced haze over it.
As always, I can't believe it has already been a year. One year just goes by so quickly. Especially since I do love babies, especially my own, so very much. Babies are just awesome. Apparently, I've some insane love affair with being TOTALLY depended upon. I do love it though, however crazy it may be. I think I'd have babies over and over, if you know, I didn't have to be pregnant first and keep raising them afterward.
So Georgia. Yeah, she's walking, and finally sleeping through the night. She's raising hell during the day, so strong willed and DEMANDING of her way. About 50% of the time she is crying hysterically because her toy (or me)...or, rather, whatever object she's decided is a toy at the moment, isn't doing exactly what she wants it to do. It's rather amusing. She claps if she hears anyone clapping. Sometimes I turn on Wheel of Fortune just to watch her reaction. They do a rather lot of clapping on that show, and she has to drop everything she is doing to join the clapping. Again, amusing. She laughs if she hears anyone else laughing. We went to dinner last night and the table next to us was a group consuming alcohol and being rather obnoxious. Though we hardly noticed for the one year old at our table laughing hysterically because it seemed to her like that's what you were supposed to do. Again, it's amusing. Who can't be amused by a baby doing a forced laugh?
Today, also, I pretend to be a PTA Mom. Ugh. I'm dreading it, and relishing in the fact that after today, I'm a third of the way done pretending to be something I'm sooooo not. I don't know why I keep thinking just regular people do things like volunteer at the school to help with class parties and other things the teachers need. You have to be a certain kind of person for these activities. I really don't understand why, because I appreciate greatly the teachers at, especially, an elementary school. I'd like to show my appreciation by helping in some ways. But, alas, I'm not good at brown nosing and chuckling at things that aren't remotely funny, or talking in a super sweet, albeit totally fake, voice. And I'm really terrible at acting like something is the most pleasant thing I've ever enjoyed when it is really something I am merely enduring for the sake of someone else. Why can't these moms just act normal? I'm not saying they ought to act like what they are doing is miserable. In fact, one gets a certain amount of joy from being around a bunch of happy kids! Indeed. But just act happy. You needn't put on a show so that everyone in the world thinks you are Super Woman. No one is buying it, anyway. I'm just not, nor will I ever be a PTA Mom. But three days this year, I will put on my fake smile, throw in my fake laugh, and spend and inordinate amount of time worrying over and putting on a party for 22 first graders. Then, I will go back to just being a mom. An imperfect one. I will have to go back to merely expressing my appreciation and gratitude with cards and small gifts. Hopefully my children's teachers are accepting that those things are good enough and that, they too, do not have to endure yet another mom pretending to be perfect....and a whole lot of other things she really isn't.
