I've been going through my day reminiscing about the moments before and during Sydney's birth. She'll be eight years old tomorrow, and it's amazing to me how quickly the time has passed. She's finally old enough that I can tell her stories about those days. And she appreciates bits of trivia, like that Brian and I ate pizza at Oregano's for lunch the day before I went into labor with her. She thought that was great. Or that she was born at 5:11 a.m., and weighed 7 lbs., 11 oz. Of course, the big take away that she went to sleep with tonight was that now she has permission to wake me up with her cries at 5:11 tomorrow morning. I disagreed, and I really hope she sleeps through it.
The kiddo's birthday festivities preparations took up most of my day, but I think she'll be happy with all the goodies and treats I have ready for her tomorrow. It'll be her day, and I hope she enjoys it.
But just so you know I haven't given up my sanity entirely, I did veto her suggestion to have dinner at Peter Piper Pizza tomorrow night.
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