My daughter turned 13 today! Wow! I remember sneaking to the hospital for our induction ("Doctor--will this thing EVER come out?"). Our family lived three hours away. We told them we were being induced the following day so we would not worry them. We wanted to call and surprise them, though I think they had their suspicions. I remember bringing her home. My husband and I set her in her crib, looked at her sleeping, and then looked at each other to ask "What next?" Funny to think we were "bored" that first hour or two home. Trust me, our colicy, high-maintainence newborn made up for lost time with us clueless, first-time parents. To this day it amazes me how one tiny baby can physically and mentally wear out two normal, healthy adults.
Fastforward 13 years. We truly are proud of our baby. She is kind (to everyone except her sister), stands up for what is right, intelligent, faith-filled, determined, hard-working, funny, and beautiful. We do truly love and adore her. We think of our children as the best of both of us. She is the first-born of two first-borns. She is, also, very much like her mother in personality--but we'll save those less-than-flattering entries for another day.
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