This time last year I was in the hospital recovering from my non-epidural, 12-minute delivery. Your memory is funny, though, because I don't really remember the pain I felt during the 8 minute car ride to the hospital (although Alex probably still has scars on his arm from where my nails were digging in). In fact, I didn't remember the pain 20 minutes after Scout was born and I was ordering french toast from my hospital bed. In case you haven't heard the story, you can find it here.
Tonight, in contrast to Scout's cannon ball entrance into the world, we had a low key celebration consisting of mac n' cheese and cake. Although this was the first time Scout has had cake, she knew something awesome was about to go down when Catcher and I came of out of the kitchen singing Happy Birthday. She began waving her arms excitedly and bouncing herself out of the high chair before I even had time to cut the first piece.
If you can't tell from the drugged-out look in her eyes, it was like feeding her baby crack. When the fun was over, I had to pry her sticky little hands from the high chair amid squeals of protest.
Yay, cake!!
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