At this time, ___ years ago...

Perhaps the highlight of my birthday is the call from my dad. Pleasantries are exchanged, he says happy birthday, and then he launches into "29 years ago right now, we were..." and recounts my entire birth story, always ending with "and I still consider it to be one of the greatest days of my life."

Now, as a kid, I'm sure I rolled my eyes at this. Sarah has teased him about it. But there was always something kind of cool about 1) hearing how you were born, 2) realizing that your parents remember that day, even though it was years ago, and 3) hearing it from your dad. We expect that kind of sentimentality from my mom--we purposely buy her "crying presents" for Christmas. (And while some of those gifts have been cry-worthy, one year, she cried when she got a clock, the next year was a sewing maching. Happy tears both times, but we still don't get it.) So when Dad gets sentimental, it's something to remember. My dad has had an impressive career, played some amazing golf courses, and traveled the world. But to know that the births of each of his six children stand out as the greatest days of his life--that really makes an impression on a kid that doesn't understand parental love.

So I blame my parents for the sentimentality of this. Three years ago this morning, after a fast labor and 2 hours of pushing (who knew that pushing would take longer than the labor part?), Emaline came screaming into the world. Throughout our hospital stay, all the nurses commented on how alert she was, how they'd never seen a newborn so awake, etc. Being the proud, naive new mom I thought, "Oh, that means she's smart!" Maybe, but the alertness has nothing to do with that. Alert just means she'll never sleep. Despite her alertness and ridiculous energy, we wouldn't trade her. She's hilarious and loving and her hugs are probably the greatest invention ever. And you know how much I value the relatively short time she's asleep? As I checked on her before bed last night, I was watching her sleep and just thinking about how she's not my little baby anymore, it's like I turned into Laura or Becca and thought "Let's wake her up!" I just wanted to pick her up and hug her. Bebe.

The past three years have been a huge learning experience for us. Lots of laughter, lots (and lots) of tears, and lots of hugs. So yeah, I'm going to be an emotional sap today, because three years ago today was one of the greatest days of my life.