Nine!

Nine years ago today my water broke as I brought Eldest and Big Guy home from a tennis lesson at the school across the street. I'd never had my water break before -- my children were all notably reluctant to emerge from the womb -- so I didn't realize at first that this was not simply a weak bladder. When I finally grasped that walking around leaving a trail of water was more than incontinence, I called Andrew and told him that though I had no contractions yet he ought to start heading home. Then I called Dancer's godmother, who was going to be our overnight babysitter. Then I padded myself up and brought the kids over to the school for the previously-promised school lunch, the main attraction of which was chocolate milk.

It never occurred to me that Andrew would take a cab home. I figured he'd take the train, and it would be at least an hour before he arrived. Hence my husband arrived to find the apartment empty, without even a note to say where the family had gone. Andrew made a series of increasingly phone calls, and by the time we arrived home, my poor husband was in quite a state. He was slightly aghast at my cheerful suggestion that we walk the mile to the hospital, to get the contractions going.

It was a full twelve hours before Snuggler was born. She was the biggest of my babies (9 pounds, 2 ounces), and the hardest labor. She is my best hugger, my big-hearted one, the girl who shares without being prompted and forgives without being cajoled. She is the one who at age seven raised over a thousand dollars to build wells in Uganda. I love her to distraction.

Dancer made the cake today. Impressive, no?