The Best Parade EVER!!

Sure I was 36 weeks pregnant, considered full term and managing the biggest event the city of Mitchell sees in a year. But I could do it. No problem!! I am super woman, which includes super mommy and super volunteer, and I can do anything and control everything.

How many times has that little belief bitten me in the butt? Let's just say it has been numerous and mostly, I get proven wrong. I think God gets enjoyment out of showing me who's boss. He does have the right.

The bets were on. The laughter was numerous. Oh so many women looked at me that last week in September and said, "Oh honey. You're never going to make it to Saturday."

I'd come home and look at Beloved Hubby and say, "Do you know how many people insist on telling me I'm not going to make it to Parade Day? I've already talked to Little Man. He knows he has to wait." And we'd laugh.

We're still laughing.

In reality, planning the biggest event in Mitchell, also known as the Persimmon Festival, is one of those advance things. Decisions are made a year in advance. Pre-planning makes it a success and my counterparts and I pre-planned and planned some more. So in reality, I knew if I gave birth that week, which was highly doubtful, the festival would still go off and go off without a hitch.

That planning came in handy. Contractions started Thursday night and continued through Friday morning. By 1 o'clock Friday afternoon, I couldn't deny what was becoming obvious and I called my doctor. He advised me to go to the hospital, and at 12:45 a.m., on Parade Day, Little Man arrived.

We were no longer thinking about the festival.

He arrived healthy and happy. He weighed 7 pounds, 1 ounce, and was 19.5 inches long. He looks like his Daddy. The baby everyone in Mitchell was calling Puddin' made his Persimmon Festival debut. And we barely recognized the significance. It took my boss, the newspaperman, to call me because he wanted to write about the Festival Chairwoman having a baby on Parade Day. That's when I said, "Wow. I guess I did, didn't I?"

Things were quiet around the hospital on Saturday. Everyone was at the festival, after all. But the hospital was abuzz with the news. The nurses would come in and say, "So you're the festival chairman and had the baby during the festival?"

I no longer think of it. Time has passed and we've moved on. The festival, I am glad to say, is over for another year. From now on, I am happy to be the bystander and not the planner. My festival was a success in more ways than just one.

And next year, I won't be waddling down Main Street. Instead, I'll be the proud mom pushing the stroller who knows she controls very little.

Little man

I realized this morning that I haven't touched my blog since well before Little Man arrived in the wee hours one fine fall day. Perhaps I've been a little busy?

But when I logged on, my last blog post was actually weeks before Little Man's arrival. Yes. I was busy then too. That was back in the days when I was planning a festival. (One that went off without a hitch I might add despite the fact that all that Main Street walking prompted Little Man to come four weeks early. It was quite the feat for Festival Guru to have Little Man on the Biggest Day of the Festival, otherwise known as Parade Day.)

These days center around nursing, sore nipples, diaper changes, midnight feedings and tiny little baby kisses ... We all steal them quite mercilessly around here. There are a lot of smiles, coo's, laughs and awwws around our house these days. I think two adults and three little boys have fallen madly in love.

I have a lot to write about. I doubt I get it all in today, but my first project is to write a blog about our birth experience. It was divine. But, first, I wanted to prove I was still here and post a picture of Master Emery, the picture perfect miracle who has kept Mamma so busy she hasn't had a minute to blog since his arrival.

And isn't that as it should be?