I got the best Christmas present ever 16 years ago. My daughter

 I was pretty zen considering I hadn't gotten any medicine yet. The hat says "I believe"

To Bailey from her Mom:

I'll start at the beginning. Well not all the way at the beginning because that involves the type of conversation that is inappropriate.
But this is the thing I can tell you. The way I remember it the nightyou first arrived in this time and space there was the most amazing moon. I've never seen one like it before or after. Your Dad and I had been in Sanford, Fla., just outside of Orlando and we were heading home as the moon was coming up. And on the flat landscape somehow the moon looked epic, like it was really rising out of the road ahead of us. It was perfect and orange and red andround and kind of breathtaking.
I had some trouble with keeping you around early on. But that is a story for another day.

I loved growing you even though I threw up at least once a day.

Somebody told me that when a baby has a lot of hair it can mess with your digestion. You had a lot of hair.
A few months in I had a dream about the baby I was going to have. I'm not sure yet even if I knew you were a girl. But I had a dream of a little girl with a bouncy head of hair in a field of flowers. Her
hair was kind of reddish and she had the chubbiest of cheeks and she wasn't smiling but looking at me like she knew me and that she would be heading my way.

When you were about three we were at the kite festival. You were running up and down the hill in your Tweetie buttoveralls with your curls bouncing in the sun and you turned around and looked at me.......and your face was the same as the face I had seenbefore you were born. I struck me then, like it has a hundred times since you've been mine, we were meant to find each other.
So back to the day at hand. It was Dec. 23. I was ready to have a baby. Because, as you know, I am a woman who likes to have deadlines and, baby, we were on a deadline. You were due Dec. 23 and I felt pretty strongly that you should arrive. I was huge and uncomfortable and ready to have you occupy your own space in this world. I had been reading all the things you could do to promote labor. I had actually written a story about the pine nut and gorgonzola salad at a restaurant in Winter Park

that women swore helped get their labor going. (Years later I read something about the chemical properties of pine nuts actually do mimic some labor hormones so, who knew?)
Anyway I had the salad. I took walks. I was shopping at Christmas time
in a crowded chi-chi shopping place and I was enormously pregnant so you can imagine how much I was enoying that. Oh, did I mention I had on a red and white stripped candy-like shirt and a baseball
cap/elf hat that said "I believe".
I ran into an old boss as I was wobbling through one of the stores. His name was Mike Bales. He had laid me off. But had done me a kindness in doing so. I'm not sure I was aware of that at the time. We
had some idle chit-chat in a crowded store. I joked at the time that Mike Bales scared me into labor.
I was prepared. There was a bag packed, movies included: Clueless (because it is my favorite movie ever) and It’s a Wonderful Life (because George, Mary, Bailey).

We had asked our friend Jan to come along to take some pictures and keep us company.

I had on a red and white candy cane stripped shirt and a elf-inspired baseball cap that said I believe.

We had been to the birthing class. To be honest, I had a feeling that your Dad wasn't going to be all that helpful. (Turned out I was right) Jan was a no-nonsense kind of person when the situation called for it so I knew she would be stalwart.
But, here is something that is a little surprising, I was not really well versed on exactly what would happen. I knew I would be giving birth and there would be breathing and epidural but that's kind of
where it ended. I didn't know about drugs or hormones or how many centimeters you needed to be dilated. I guess I figured my body would just make it work. More likely I was afraid I wouldn't do it right so there was no point in studying for this particular test.
I don't remember the contractions being that bad but when they became about five minutes apart we went to the hospital.
They wanted us to walk. So we did.

It was, you know, late Dec. 23 so most of the hospital was empty plus there was renovation going on so there were entire hallways with no one around. We walked and walked and walked. I had my Birkenstocks on and I was, you know, hugely pregnant so I kind of rolled along. It was likely a very slow procession. (Still in candy cane shirt and hat.)
At one point I decided to sing. It seems to me that I sang a lot. One song went something like this, except to the tune of Jingle Bells: "Giving birth, giving birth, it's time to give birth. We’re here now,
I'm big like a cow, It's time to give birth, Yeah!"
When we came close to wings where there were people, I am sure 1) People thought we drunken idiots. 2) They really wished I couldn't sing so loud.
Eventually my water broke or something happened and the nurses were suddenly not so keen on my walking and they made me get in bed and they strapped this belt around my middle that told them exactly what my contractions were doing. I didn't know until maybe 11 years later
when we were talking to Dr. Meinke about your calves, that they were in a rush because they were worried you might swallow meconium and that you were in distress. And that could have been bad.
But, fortunately, I had not done my homework so I just thought ­-- Ok...I'll lay down now.
Contractions were not that bad. They did go on for like, 11 hours. I kind of got use to them. Jan's boyfriend at the time was there and he had an annoying habit of looking at the monitor and announcing with each contraction that this one was going to be an especially bad one.
Thank you Jan's douche bag boyfriend.
But mostly, I said "ouch". Yep, "ouch". No screaming. Surprisingly, no
cussing. Just "ouch."
Just like when I threw up everyday and I said that it was for a good cause, I told myself the same. This was for a really good cause. So, "ouch."
When the doctor showed up, finally, he had on the same hat that I did. Although I had never seen him before and don't recall his name, I believe that was kind of meant to be.
They kept telling me how I needed to stay really still for the epidural. I had been saying ouch for 10 hours and they told me the epidural would make that stop so I was damn skinny going to be still.
No problem.
Then I was a little giddy on medicine, ok, a lot giddy on medicine. I decided I wasn't going to be able to do this thing. Yes, I was going to be the first woman in the history of healthy woman in actual labor with a healthy baby who would somehow mange to not be able to give birth. I somehow decided I was just incapable of it so.....I wanted to go home.

Mr. Tree which I had won by stuffing entries into a give away box at a local store was waiting for me at home. 
I tried my best to go home. I tried to be my most charming. I promised and purred that I lived just so close and that I would come right back. It would be finnneee.....why not just let me go home for, like,
a sec? No worries. I'll come back.
I tried and tried to convince everyone to let me go home and no one would. They wanted me to rest but I kept wanting to talk to your Dad so I could convince him to let me go home. They made him leave the room so I would sleep.
So what happened when you finally decided to come?

I my memory, it was like there was stadium seating in the place. Jan was there. Your dad was there.
Your Nana and Pop were there. My friend Cheri was there. Jan's boyfriend was there. Jan. Your Dad. There were two teams of nurses because they were worried about you although they didn't tell me that.
The only time I lost my cool was when they were telling me to push.
The whole room was kind of yelling at me. It was suppose to be encouraging but I couldn't believe that they didn't understand that I kind of needed to concentrate.

Pushing out a human, here!
I snapped a little: Only one person can tell me what to do.
And there you were. Your Dad swears It’s A Wonderful Life was playing on the television. (That is back in the day of VHS.)

Anyway. You were beautiful.

I felt in an instant that you were mine. I could feel your heart beat in sync with mine and I never knew I could love anything as much as I loved you.
They put you in what looked like a plastic bin away from me and told me to rest. But every time you made a sound I would sit up and look in your direction, even though I was exhausted and still pretty high. I knew I had to help you if you needed me.
When we got to our room it was just us. Everybody left. Now it was Christmas Eve. There wasn't even hardly a staff. The nurses didn't answer the call button. There was a place for your dad to sleep but he went home.
So it was me and you and they told me not to keep you in the bed with me but I did for awhile. When I put you back in your plastic bin I didn't want you to feel lonely so I had a yarn Santa face that had
been on a present and I taped so you could see it and have something interesting to take in.....although looking back, you know, the whole world was new to you so it was probably a little bit of overkill.
Still, my sweet baby girl, it was the most amazing day of my life. My best day ever, easily. And you are truly the best Christmas present I have ever had.

(Although, when you become a successful grown up, I hear diamond
earrings are awfully nice :)

I'm still a ID Mom although my baby loves the death metal musings of Slipknot

This is my latest ill kept secret: 1D is my jam and videos of the 1D boys in interviews are my happy place even in my Menopausal Mom years.

For those of you are reading this blog carefully --- at this point I think that is a couple of  my sisters and my fellow Menopausal Mom, Kim and I really want to thank you all -- you may have detected a few trends.
1) I'm having a hard time my daughter growing up so fast.
2) I like to listen to One Direction. I listen to them to work out. I listen to them in the car and do some enthusiastic if not elegant car dancing.
3) The first thing I am working on. The second thing makes me both ridiculously happy and a little embarrassed.

The three are actually tied together. I started to like 1D because my daughter loved them. I remember the car ride to Wal-Mart where I was like, ok, there are five of them? Harry has brown hair? Niall is the Irish one. Who is Liam?
She laughed a lot. For months I could never get them straight. They were just a meld of Justin Beiber hair and British accents. 

 This is 1D in what fans call the "Fetus" stage because they were such babies. BTW. That's, left to right, Liam, Louis, Harry, Niall and Zayn.

And when I say she loved them. She really loved them. She spent hours watching videos of them. I think she sent Tweets and Instagram posts about them. She put pictures of them all over her walls. She bought magazines about them. She wanted desperately to see them. On the first day of high school I played their CD at car rattling levels because we could all sing along and I knew that would both distract her from panic and keep her breathing deeply so anxiety couldn't set in while we waited in what seemed like an hour-long line.

When they announced they were touring the  U.S. lthough I didn't really have the money I got her two sets of tickets, one in Lville and one in Nashville, as soon as they went on sale. The tour would be an year later but was already selling out. It was more than $300 which is more than I've spent in my life on anything other than a car or a major appliance. My wedding dress was less expensive.

This a pictures of her looking extremely happy because of the tickets to Lville.

So how did I get sucked in? When they hit it big, in the 2011, she took this ridiculously extended vacation to Florida. (A blog for another day.) She was gone for a month. We had never been apart for a month. I really missed her. I started watching 1D interviews on YouTube because it made me feel closer to her. (Weird, maybe, but not even close to the weirdest thing I've ever done as a mother.) Before I knew it, for the first time in my life, seriously, I was a fan who knew not only the music of a band, but the back story. (Don't get me started about how they aren't really a band. Just because they don't play instruments doesn't mean they aren't a band. Just ask Twitter. I dare you.)

When I was the age of the most ardent ID fans, I thought getting really invested in any celebrity was just stupid. I never dreamed about marrying one of the Cassidy boys because I knew, even at 10, that I would never meet them. I have never been an uber fan of anything. It must be some kind of pathological fear of commitment.

But soon I knew enough about 1D to help my friend's daughter make a great sign for the concert they went to, when they were four rows back from the stage that said "I Heart Niall and Nando's" a nod to the Irish-one's favorite restaurant. The sign got a thumbs up from the real Niall (OMG!) and a nod to my friend when Harry had a shout out to all the "1D Mums" who've made band such a hit.  I'll admit...I'm a little jealous Harry didn't give a nod and a shout out to me.(I let my daughter take her friend with our two tickets, although I really would have liked to go.)

I love them so that I have made her promise multiple times to play One Direction's  Live While We're Young as a surprise to the guests at the end of my funeral. (In advance, you are invited to attend. Hopefully you will all forget by then and it will still be a surprise. If not, pretend for my sake.)

Look at the boys all grown up.

But my Middle Aged Mom fan status also shows the depth and power of social media. The people handling these guys did a great job early on taking questions on Instagram and Twitter creating live stream chats. Teen and preteen Directioners are a true, fast-typing force of nature. This Matt Lauer recently learned after an apparent diss of member Zayn on the Today show. http://et.tv/1zCWLig

I think he got death threats..

But the 1D handlers were also genius in marketing  to the parents, especially Moms. In the first movie about the band there were sequences about all of their mothers and how they missed their boys. They were all so young and so scared it tugged on my maternal heart strings and I also felt for their, mostly, middle aged moms.

Being a 1D Mom is kind of a thing. So I am not alone by any measure. On Twitter girls brag about their Moms being 1DAF. Some naive moms think it means One Direction Always and Forever but it really means something that rhymes with As Duck but starts with the second word beginning with an F.  It is meant, I believe, as a compliment.

I don't know if I am that far in but I do know for certain that while my girl has moved onto the death metal musings of SlipKnot........

I'm not moving along with her.