It was Friday. I was leaning against the counter in my kitchen chatting with my sister-in-law who had brought over dinner. (I don’t remember the occasion but I do remember it was delicious sweet pork tacos,and on her way to my house it spilled in her(new) car)
Happy birthday baby.
(I’ve been ruminating over something and I’d appreciate your thoughts. Do I take her birthday picture the minute she was born as I do with the bio kids, or do I take it at the time we first clapped eyes on her? This year at least, I’ll be going with the second option and taking it at about 3 pm on the 14th because I forgot to look up her birth time before the day came and missed it. Funny how you don’t remember that sort of thing (meaning the birth time) as well when you weren’t the one reveling in the mixture of love and the relief of a baby birthed during the moment in question)