This past weekend, playing in the creek.
Chicken is three today!  

At this moment three years ago, I was still at work, very pregnant, but trying to finish up a little early because I had a feeling the baby was coming early.  She was not due for another three and a half weeks.  I finished meeting with clients at about 4:00, went to Babies 'R Us to shop for a crib bumper (I mean- you can't bring the baby home without the crib bumper!), and called my sister-in-law about something.  She asked me how I was feeling and I told her about some crampiness that felt different that morning.  I said as long as I was off my feet I felt okay.  She asked a few questions about pregnancy/labor things, then informed me I was most definitely on my way to having the baby soon.

Let me pause and ask, for just a second, how many of you are wondering if I am about to tell my birth story, in all its glory?  Bwahahaha- you wish!  No way I'd publish those gory details!  I'm not that brave.  And I can't handle reliving the trauma.

A few hours later we were googling "labor" to determine if, in fact, I was in labor.  Oh, hindsight.  You really are 20/20. 

Yada yada yada... Labor happened...  Chicken Little was born!  11:45 that night. 

This is pretty much how I remember her those first few weeks:
wook at dat wittle bitty ting
We came home from the hospital and had a plumbing problem that required our whole front yard to be excavated and us to move out for a few days.  We stayed with our friends in their one bedroom basement apartment.  Chicken slept in a laundry basket.  Oh yeah, and my sister showed up (surprise!) from South Carolina and stayed over as well.  Five adults and one newborn in the apartment.  I remember Philip bringing lots of Bodo's bagels for us to eat and friends dropping off dinners for us.  Oh, and watching Oprah and whatever else was on at that time.

If I could go back and re-enjoy that time, I totally would.  I remember trying to, but also feeling keyed up with this whole "new baby" thing.  Sort of in an adrenaline fog. 

But seriously- all she really did was sleep.  She couldn't have been any easier.   I just didn't really know that at the time. 

And this is her now:
photo courtesy of Robinson Imagery.  Incredible work, right?

Wide awake! 

Happy third, Chicken Little!  Now go to sleep already.  You've been talking in your crib (yes, still in a crib) for almost an hour. 

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