I did this.

You know that scene in Jerry McGuire when Dorothy takes all responsibility for the difficulty in her relationship with Jerry? She says, "I did this." That's one of my favorite scenes from one of my least favorite movies. There's just something about a person saying, "see all this tension, all this inconvenience, all this crap? I am responsible for this, and I'll do my damnedest to make sure it turns out OK."

Well, you'll likely also remember that everything turned out beautifully for Dorothy and Jerry and all their you-complete-me-sappy-kissy-kissy-ness.

For some reason, those three words, "I did this," stuck with me. Especially during the period between Thanksgiving and the first week in January, those words pop into my head quite often, almost like a torturous mantra. These six weeks are perhaps the most stressful and busy and crazy of the year. Yeah, yeah, I know, I know--everybody experiences extra stress and craziness during the holiday season. But guys, I messed around and had a kid precisely 10 days after Christmas. The holiday bump and grind becomes secondary to the birthday showdown for The Most Important Boy in the World, because I am determined that his birthday will not be lumped together with the other winter holidays. It's his day. And it will be treated with all the celebratory hoopla that it deserves. Too bad his parents' sense of timing sucks.

So the shopping for presents and the mixing and baking and frosting and the constructing of cake and the constructing of a tricycle and the decorations and lists and cleaning and oh-my-goodness where did my vacation time go? Yeah. I did this.

And you know? I wouldn't have it any other way.

Two years ago at almost exactly this same time, we headed to the hospital. 17.5 hours later, it all turned out beautifully.

I did this.

I'm so glad I did.