Birthday Girls

Today was my 22nd birthday. Woo hoo.

One year ago today, I was housing a tiny sprout of a baby in my belly and had no idea. In fact, I still had three and a half weeks before I would even suspect a thing. I can't even begin to describe how drastically my life has changed in one year.

This time last year, I was tossing back Irish car bombs and shots of vodka. Today I enjoyed homemade pasta sauce with spinach ravioli, (and maybe a couple of peach mango martinis).

This time last year I put on four-inch heels to go out on the town. Today I wore a long-sleeved raglan that got covered in drool and some brand new fuzzy socks, courtesy of my grandmother.

This time last year, I celebrated my birthday with friends who wanted nothing more than to watch me pour liquor down my throat. Today I took care of my daughter, the same as I have for the last three and a half months.

When I woke up this morning and looked over at Evie, her face didn't say, "Happy Birthday, Mom!" Instead, she whined and squirmed until I shoved a boob in her mouth. She cried in the car while we ran errands. She pooped in her diaper while I was eating cake. She even slobbered on my face when I held her up above my head. In short, Evelyn did not care that today was my birthday.

Unlike other days, however, she stayed quiet while I ate my dinner, happily glaring at a muted episode of Spongebob on TV. Trust me, this is a wonderful birthday gift. Normally I have to choke down a bowl of cereal for dinner while Evie threatens to fuss any second.

Believe me when I say that I am happy to be a whole year away from my former life. Evie has made my life so much better, so much more rewarding, and no number of vodka shots could numb me into the bliss I feel every time she smiles her big gummy grin.

You could say that Evie was a birthday surprise from last year. Today I held her and knew with all certainty that she was the greatest gift I could ever receive, even if she does slobber on my face.