Most of them forgivable. I brought her to school with a disguised fever once or twice. I let her nails get a little too long and she woke up with tiny scratches on her face like she had been attacked by semi-sleepy kittens. You know, tiny things like that.
But one thing I do kind of regret is how little I scrapbooked this year. I've never been great at that. I still have undeveloped disposable cameras from high school and college in a box somewhere in my parent's house. Who knows what's on those treasures? It's like a time capsule. But I doubt that one day I will be sitting around and lamenting the fact that I don't have those 20 pictures of me and my high school crew laying in colored leaves on our junior year Williamsburg trip.
I do think that one day I will still regret not keeping all of Violet's doctor report cards with her statistics, or getting her foot stamped on her first day of life, or even getting newborn pictures taken. I didn't write down her first word (which I think was "uh-oh,") or could even tell you exactly when she started crawling. Newer moms ask me "When did Violet start sleeping through the night?" and I'm like, "uuuuuh, 4 months?" I have no idea. She just did at one point and I was so grateful.
I'm even totally slacking in the party planning department. I have ordered her cake, thank God. I called the woman that my sister recommended yesterday, and the conversation went something like this:
Me:"Oh, hello. I wanted to place an order for my daughter's first birthday coming up on the 14th. But her party will be the 15th. In mobile. I'm in Birmingham right now."
Lady: "Ok. How big do you need one?"
Me:"Um, (doing the mental math I certainly didn't do before hand) I guess about 25 people?"
Lady: "Ok. what do you want on it?"
Me: (panicking slightly inside) "Well I guess there are two ways I could go with this. She's a Valentine's baby so we could do something like that. Or she has this favorite book that would be cute. I don't know. I'm sorry, I didn't really think this through."
Lady: "haha, that's ok. What's the book?"
Me: "It's about like a mouse and a strawberry and this bear."
Lady:"Never heard of it. Could I google it?"
Me:"I mean, it's a pretty popular book. But there's one part where the strawberry is disguised in one of those glasses with the nose and the mustache. She thinks that part's pretty funny."
Lady:"Um, ok. Well a specific page would be harder. Could you email it to me?"
Me: (assuming the internet won't fail me) "Sure thing. I'll send you an email with the pic. And the details." (Yes! A chance to compose myself and my thoughts on email, my only friend)
So we're good there, probably. I did find the picture, and I was more specific in the email, but I gave her total creative control so we don't know what we're getting. Here's hoping it's cute. I'm pretty sure it will be.
My point is, I'm on my first (and maybe only) child, and I'm already treating her like the 5th. Why am I so bad at this? Am I alone? I'm southern, dammit. I'm supposed to put her in oversized bows and dresses on the daily and practically live at Hobby Lobby. I'm supposed to have everything monogrammed and smocked.
Oh well. I may have failed her this first year in that department, but on the 15th, we'll at least be celebrating the fact that I kept her alive and well for an entire year. And maybe year two I'll be a little bit better about keepsaking the memories.
Happy Thursday everyone. I've got to go get ready for a mom date to the library story time and lunch.
Love,
Dominique
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