Happy Birthday to me

Another blog from Avery on her 1 month birthday:

Bring on the cake and candles (or just milk, whatever), I have reached the first of many milestones in my young life. Yes, I am 1 month old. It’s amazing to me how time flies…how did I get so old so fast? I have accomplished so much in my four weeks and two days of life, I thought I would take time to pause and ponder my existence.

The hospital was ok I guess, but I have to say, I much prefer having my own room to sharing space with four other cranky newborns. I mean, not to be rude but some of them were just so childish…up all night, whiny and cranky. If anybody’s going to be waking up and disturbing people at all hours of the night, I would prefer it be me (and what do you know, it usually is).

I also like that I get to wear clothes, unlike the hospital. What’s with the scratchy tunic with poorly functioning snaps and no pants rule? Talk about a fashion emergency. I much prefer the snuggly sleepers I get at home. I just have one issue with them. Although the designs are lovely (love the barnyard animals and polka dots) , I can’t help but notice that they might give people the wrong idea about me. I mean, come on, “too cute,” “cutest baby ever,” “everyone’s favorite”? Yes, I’ve seen myself in the mirror, and it’s true, I am adorable. But please don’t bring me out in public in these. I have an image to uphold…I don’t want all the other kids to think I’m narcissistic or anything (If you want to put me in them at home though, I guess that’s cool).

Speaking of my body image, I have to, once again, contest some of these nicnames. Noony? Bubbaloo? Chubba lubba? Piggly wiggly? Smelly Nelly? Stinkle Winkle? So what you’re saying is, I’m smelly and fat. I can get on board with the chubby part (hello, I’m getting ready for winter in the Northeast, I have to stay insulated) but I’d appreciate if you not draw attention to my smells. I have very little control over them.

And while we’re on the topic of hygiene, Mom, I thought I would make your life easier and just put this out there. Now that it’s just the two of us at home during the day, I know you have this pact with yourself that you’ll shower, put non-pajamas on and put yourself together everyday before Dad gets home. Nice thought, but I just want you to know that no matter how content I am, changed, fed, burped and happy, I will start to scream the second you get in the shower. That’s just how I roll.

And mom, you know how you were soooo excited about how I slept seven straight hours last night, then a few more after you fed me? Well don’t get too used to it. That was just a little birthday gift from me to you…consider it my way of thanking you for the nine months you carried me; the six weeks of nausea, the months of discomfort, the nine hours of labor, the major abdominal surgery, the stretch marks, and the extra pounds you are still trying to take off. Thanks Mom!

(Be advised: I will most likely go back to my normal sleeping schedule tomorrow)