I remember being very anxious and stressed about the event. For starters, that's what I do for a living: I stress, worry, talk about it a lot, eat ice cream, take a chill pill, and then start all over again.
Also, that was the first time I think she and I ever ventured out of the house - save for doctor appointments - since her birth day. I was worried about everything. How would I organize and take care of feeding our friends and family? How would I get the church and activity center lined up for the day? How would I manage to get invitations out? What would she wear? What would I wear? (That was the million dollar, post-baby, what's-this-around-my-waist question.) And would she do okay around so many people all at once? What about when the congregation started singing hymns, with the organ or piano? And oh my gosh...I forgot to start worrying about whether or not she would wail, cry, and/or scream up front....
Here's a picture of my mama feeding our girl while we did some set-up for the dinner the evening before:
Does that baby look "chill," or what?
Luckily, my Artsy Fartsy Crafty of a sister handled making it look pretty, and my parents helped us get food and everything arranged. Because I was useless. I was off my schedule, off my routine, and off my rocker.
I did manage, however, to get the invitations out ALL BY MYSELF! I had my Big Girl House Shoes on that day.
My cowboy fireman was a big help, too. Besides sitting around and lookin' good, he and my dad moved a lot of chairs and tables around, and then they moved them all around again, because I didn't like the first arrangement. Thanks, guys. I'm sure that had nothing to do with B's defeated pose. Although moving the tables and chairs a third time probably most definitely DID have something to do with it...especially since the air conditioner wasn't turned on yet. But he's used to the FIRE, right?!
And who doesn't want to top off a week of the military-esque fire academy with a weekend full of moving around furniture and fiddling with pink daisy centerpieces?
Raise your hand, sweetie....
Everything turned out really well, and it was a good day. The baby was an angel. (But you already knew that.) Everyone oohed and aahed over her, and she looked sweet and angelic and was perfection in church. All she did when the pastor pranced her down the aisle during the baptism was look around. She probably winked at people she knew, but I couldn't see her face, so I'm not sure. I just know she does that a lot.
Have you ever seen two people MORE in need of a nap?
Or a hairdresser? Cassie...where ARE you when I need you?!
But we were happy. We were all still breathing, the weather was nice, everything was coming together, I had zebra-printed earrings in, we were all full of food, we had help, our faces looked big from the self-portrait with the camera, and we were all still breathing.
I know this post is getting long - aren't they all? - but I've gotta show a picture of the daddy and his girl:
I get such a kick out of her expression. Does it look full of sarcasm, or what? She is definitely my baby!
During the dinner, Katie spent a lot of time napping with her great-grandma. I wish I had a picture of them together that day, but alas, I do not, but I won't soon forget them sitting there together. Nor will I forget that Jeffrey and Heather came all the way from Arkansas for the weekend. I can't believe my nephew, Jonathan, wasn't even here yet...it seems like he's been here and a part of everything forever.
I also won't forget her strawberry cake, decorated to look like her invitations. Or the fact that B's cousins came over after the dinner and hung out at our house, watching Katie kick around in her crib and listening to her Metallica baby lullaby CD.
And let's not overlook how we were all three on time to church! And fully-clothed! With shoes on and teeth brushed! That felt like a huge victory in itself. Especially after the 30 minutes I just stood in our bedroom the night before, counting back how early we'd have to start getting ready in order to drive out the gate on time.
I told you I worry for a living.