As promised, I'm back to talk about my girl child today.
Allison is my first born--she was born 11 days before our first wedding anniversary, which has been an endless source of jokes. But I was 33 when she was born and we had no idea how long it would take us to get pregnant. Two months, basically. It's not safe to stand downwind of a Schleter man or you will end up pregnant.
I remember being amazed at how big and round I got, and how fun it was to feel her kicking and punching in there. Until I got to 40 weeks pregnant. With absolutely no sign of her wanting to come out of there. At 41 weeks, she got evicted. I wasn't thrilled about the idea of a c-section, but thanks to being run over by a truck when I was 15, no other option.
I remember David peeking through the curtain at her coming out and him saying "Oh my God what a big noggin!" It was at that point she started screaming. She's still a good screamer.
I had a rough first few months after she was born. I went back to work when she was 10 1/2 weeks old and that was HARD. I hated it and hated pretty much everyone around me, too. Except my ornery, funny little girl. She was scared of everyone, was a total daddy's girl and refused to sleep unless she was laying on one of us, but we survived those tough times.
Our reward for that was the bright, sunny little girl that we have now. Sure she occasionally still throws fits and is whiny after a long day of school. But she's also silly and funny and does crazy dances around my living room and lets me color pictures with her and play Barbies even though I'm almost 40.
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