Saint Patrick's Day. I've always loved that holiday. Its always been about spending good times with good friends. And I vividly remember the anticipation leading up to Saint Patrick's in 1998. The day was circled in green (of course) on the calendar. I had a doctor's appointment on a Friday shortly before St. Patricks. I remember how he told me to take it easy. There was a big winter storm blowing up, and I didn't need to be out and about. Of course, I believed that he meant it was perfectly fine for me to go shoot pool with my husband (the one at that time, not OrganicGuy), and my buddy Mark. I'd known Mark since I'd been a wee snot-nosed brat in 9th grade. He's still a good friend, and one great guy.
While playing pool, we started talking about plans for St. Patrick's. I demurred, saying I would likely be busy. Mark and the husband started talking about another friend, Jason, and his idea for trick-or-treating for St. Patricks. You know...go door to door, and ask for treats. Yeah, I know what you're all thinking...didn't you say St. Patricks, not Halloween? Saint Paddys with the green beer and leprechauns and all that? Yes, I did say that. And you would generally be right.
But you may not know Jason. He's a 6'6" redhead, who has a killer Irish accent. He wanted to go door to door claiming to be a leprechaun, and that the house we were at was hiding his pot 'o' gold. He went on like this for a while, making all of us laugh. "Where's me pot o gold?" he'd cry. He'd answer himself too..."Hey buddy (spoken in a flat Nebraskan accent), ain't'cha kinda tall to be a leprechaun?" "Oh-Hoo," (Jason again, Irish again) "And ain't'cha a bit of a thief and all, stealin' me gold, to be claimin' to know about leprechauns." On and on it went. Until, finally, he did it...he knocked lightly on my stomach, and said "You in there, you haven't seen a pot o gold, have ye? Is there a pot o gold in your mummy's belly???" Yes, he was talking to my soon-to-be-born child. The one that was due on Saint Patrick's Day. I laughed. I gasped for air. I begged him to stop. I laughed some more. I bitched about how pregnant women are incontinent, with pea-sized bladders, and raced to the bathroom. Okay, I waddled. Not much racing at 9 months pregnant.
Anyhow, it did snow that weekend. And snow and snow. The previous October, we'd had one of the most damaging snowstorms Lincoln Nebraska had ever seen. 24+ inches of wet snow, on trees that hadn't lost leaves yet. Massive power outages, schools closed for a full week. This storm, the March storm, the one to create a perfect bookend for the October storm, wasn't quite as bad. Only about 15 inches of snow. Started on Saturday, kept going for about half of Sunday. I spent the weekend on the couch stroking the belly and saying "If you just wait until Daddy has the drive cleared, I promise I will take you out to eat anywhere you want for your 16th birthday present." She listened; Dad got the drive cleared Sunday night. Went to work Monday AM. Went home Monday PM. Had supper. Got up from the couch to put some dishes in the sink, and woosh. Uh...honey...that moment can seem such a cliche, but that's exactly what I felt. Honey, the water broke. No, not the sink...yeah, get the keys. I've got my bag.
And then I waited. And waited. And waited. Monday night turned into Tuesday morning. And Tuesday afternoon. With the help of a great hospital staff, and good drugs, the then-husband and I wiled away the hours debating the various strengths and weaknesses of each bracket of the NCAA tourney (hey, don't be like that...it WAS right after Selection Sunday, and I've always been a sports geek!). And then, at 6:15 the Tuesday night (and yes, I'm leaving out the details, believe me you don't want any more details), OrganicKid made her presence known to the world. All red, and screaming, and irritated at being bugged by all these people she didn't know. And just beautiful. Perfect little fingers and fingernails. The perfect size, the perfect shape. And I was immediately in love.
It's now 11 years later. OrganicKid is now pretty much as tall as me (she loves this fact), wears my shoes and shirts to school as often as she thinks she can get away with. She's blond and blue-eyed, tall and slender, funny, bright, creative, and I'm in awe of her every day. I couldn't imagine life without her in in. And I firmly believe the world is a better place, because OrganicKid is a part of it. 
She's goofy, she's getting to be a great cook, and I'm so proud of her. And I was right. I was kinda busy that Saint Patrick's Day. I was learning how to be a mom worthy of such a great kid.
Happy birthday OrganicKid. And just remember, all your life long, your mom loves you.
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