in 1988 the 17th was a Friday night and I had a house full of company for dinner. Having just taken leave and returned home to DC from my current duty assignment in Germany a few days ago, I was pregnant with our second daughter. The eldest (almost 10) had mixed feelings about the addition to the family. I was at the point of counting days and hours till I would be able to walk rather than waddle.
Sending everyone home about 2200, my main hope was that the twinges I was having would really be labor (and shorter than the almost day The Eldest took to put in her appearance).
Ms Soprano was born just after 0100 in the morning, clearly expressing her opinion of the cold, cruel world into which she had been force to be born. She has been unique of the four her whole life – the one to whom challenges and opportunities have befallen. The one to have eye surgery, deal with asthma, break her arm (twice) and otherwise fight against the randomness of life.
She is an incredibly talented vocalist, loyal friend, a writer, an artist, and fiercely interested in politics.
Home for the holiday, she will be at Montgomery College after the first of the year, staying with my longest-standing friend (college roommate which puts our relationship one of almost 40 years).
I feel privileged to be her mother.