Finally! It's all about me!

So I had to get my gallbladder out. The doctor told me it was best to get it done while I was still young (as if I am approaching 90) and the sooner the better. I worked so hard on getting everything planned out for Sticks and the family while I would be recovering. I wrote out her daily menu and sleep schedule. I made a ton of baby food so no one would have to worry about what to feed her. I planned friends and family to come and sit with us after Daddy goes back to work, since I won't be able to pick her up for 1 week. As the surgery day came and I was overcome with the emotions. I couldn't believe how frightened I was. I didn't want to have anything happen to me, I couldn't imagine my sweet baby never knowing her Mom. So sad. Well, as you can tell the surgery went fine. I can home the same day and started recovering nicely at home.

The first few days I was really out of it. People were coming and going with food and I don't really have a clear memory of it all. All I knew is my husband was taking care of me and Sticks, and doing an excellent job. I had all my meals brought to me, along with snacks, drinks and medications. He got me movies to watch and anything else I wanted. It was amazing. Although I started noticing that Sticks wasn't missing me. She really was quite content hanging with Daddy. I was starting to feel so sad. She should at least be noticing that I am not around. I mean I don't really want her to be throwing herself down crying and refusing to eat, but something would have been nice.

The third day my Husband came down with a cold and he had his Mom come over to help him help us. Sticks was playing on the floor. I came in and sat down on the couch. She looks up at me, and says "Mama". Whoa! Then she pointed to me and said "Mama". Holy granola! This made up for all the dada nonsense. She really does love me. Who knew?!

She's a Dada Kind of Baby

I am beginning to realize parenting is all guts and no glory. You completely rearrange your whole life to accommodate this little ball of joy, and all you really want at the end of the day is for that little wonder to look up and say "Mama". Instead every day my precious angel looks up and says "Dada". This is very disheartening.

It all started a few weeks ago. Sticks started saying dada to everything. We assumed she didn't know what that meant and she was just making sounds, actually I should say I was hoping this was nonsense and not actual words. One morning I got up and picked her up from her crib while Daddy was in the shower. I changed her diaper and brought her back into my room and she exclaims "dada!", as she is looking around the room for him. I feed her and as I was finishing in walks Dada. She looks up and sees him. Her face lights up and she exclaims "Dada". He laid down on the bed, and she wiggles out of my arms and nestles up next to him and is chanting "dada, dada, dada". Nice! It's not like I have done anything great, only carried you in my tummy for 9 months. I gave birth to you, nursed you, sat up with you in the middle of the night, changed my whole life for you, but hey it's cool say "dada". It's not a big deal to me. Ok, so I jest, but only slightly. I worked with her for months saying mama with all smiles making it fun. Apparently it made no difference.

I do have to say in a world where Dad's a becoming less and less important and many babies do not have Daddies, I am so proud that my little girl gets to have a Dad. Plus, her Dad is awesome. I couldn't have picked a better dad for her anywhere in the world. I praise God who used all my bad decisions and made them to work for his glory. I get to sit here today with a family and a life I could have never obtained on my own. Want to know more about this visit www,lookup316.com or join us at Seabreeze Church www.seabreezechurch.com.