I still remember being released from the hospital after having her and thinking, "That's it? I haven't got a clue about what I'm supposed to do with a baby, and they're just going to let her go home with me??"
No tests to pass.
Nobody to make sure that I wouldn't break her when I got her dressed.
Nobody to tell me when I may, in fact, be doing something wrong.
I can still remember the first night...when she wailed nonstop....Roger and I just looked at each other and whispered, "What the heck were we thinking? Did we really think that we could do this?"
Eventually she settled into a schedule and then a week later- BAM! A brand new schedule. The beginning of 3 months of colic, where the screaming would begin like clockwork at 4pm and last until after midnight. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.
But somehow we made it though. (Prozac, anyone?)
By 4 months our little Sierra and her big personality began to emerge...the happiest girl on earth to a cranky little stinker; no in-betweens. Uh-oh. Just like her momma.
And now, a young woman.
Still a drama queen.
Still forever giddy or as irritable as they come without much in the middle.
She get's so mad that I always seem to know what she's up to, and it's no big mystery: it's the same thing that I was doing at that age. Scary.
Sierra, you have brought me so much joy (okay, and a few of headaches too.)
I love your never ending creativity.
I love your wit and your charm.
I love that you are so mature, and the best built-in babysitter we could ask for. If you can deal with these 4 boys, ain't nothin' gonna stop you.
I love that you're so gentle with Brendan, and can keep him happy when I need you to.
I love that you are such a good example for the other 3 stooges. (Jordan, Camden, Hayden)
Most of all, I love that I get the blessing of being your mother.