FROM THE Editor’s Desk

Posted 7/5/22

BY SARAH NIGBOR Birthday craziness Ten years ago, my daughter’s due date was July 1. I was absolutely gigantic and looking forward to the day I could see my feet again. It also didn’t help that …

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FROM THE Editor’s Desk


BY SARAH NIGBOR Birthday craziness

Ten years ago, my daughter’s due date was July 1. I was absolutely gigantic and looking forward to the day I could see my feet again. It also didn’t help that it was about 105 degrees every day. My due date came and went and I tried every trick in the book to induce labor. I ate the spiciest food I could stand. I went on walks around the block. I even tried castor oil in orange juice (my cousin’s suggestion), which only resulted in digestive misery. Don’t do it.

Finally, 11 days later, Carolina made her appearance in this world at 8 pounds, 14.5 ounces. Her birth was anything but easy. After being in labor 20 hours, I was rushed into an emergency C-section because her heart rate was dropping and she was stuck in the birth canal. I’ve always had adverse reactions to pain medication, so the epidural didn’t work. I had to be put under during the C-section and woke up two hours later alone in the hospital OR, wondering where my baby girl had gone. It was terrifying and I had no idea if she was OK or not. When I was able to get a nurse to finally respond, they wheeled me back to my regular room where my husband held our little daughter.

From the moment I saw her, I knew I’d never loved anyone so much in my life. I had never planned on being a mother, nor had I wanted to, to be honest. I had never even changed a diaper. But that all changed on a hot July day in 2012.

This past weekend, we had Carolina’s “friend” birthday party which involved me bringing Carolina, her brother and four of her friends to Fawn Doe Rosa in St. Croix Falls. I was alone in a car with six 10-year-olds for about 2 hours and 20 minutes total. Let’s just say the trip went well, but I’ll probably never regain hearing in my right ear from the shrieking, giggling and singing. My son played DJ with his Bluetooth speaker, and their music selection frankly shocked me. They love anything from 80s rock to 90s and early 2000s par- ty anthems, which I’ll admit, was fine by me. I like jamming out to loud music in the car. But when they started playing songs from an idiot on YouTube called MasterWiggleMunch (“Everything I Say is So Funny”), I quickly wished I hadn’t agreed to Lincoln playing DJ.

After a successful trip to Fawn Doe Rosa, we returned to the Ellsworth Elementary parking lot where parents were going to pick up their kids. While waiting, one of Carolina’s friends accidentally called 911 unbeknownst to me. Suddenly, an Ellsworth police officer rolls up and asks us if we’re okay. Her friend comes running to talk to the officer and assures him the call was an accident. I’m thankful the police check up on calls like that, but it was a bit embarrassing. I was also still traumatized from MasterWiggleMunch and all I could think of was sitting in a quiet room by myself with a cup of coffee. On the way home, Carolina remarked that something funny or odd always happens on her birthday, and she happily filed away the police call in her memory bank. When she was 4, Pickles the Clown performed at her birthday party. During Pickles’ act, a new neighbor boy crashed the party and started eating the cake. We had no idea who he was or where he’d come from until his dad came running across the street to collect him. We let him stay, of course.

When Carolina was about 5, a girl we vaguely knew crashed her birthday party at the Ellsworth pool and ate an entire jumbo bag of pretzels as we watched in disbelief. She proceeded to scold me for not inviting her to the party and ran off with the part of the cake, shoving it in her moth as she ran. That was a head scratcher.

Last year, Carolina invited two girls over for a sleepover. One of the girls brought a big gift bag for her, but when it came time to open it, she started claiming things for herself, saying she was going to keep this and keep that. Carolina, being the polite girl she is, didn’t say anything but I felt bad for her. I admit, I didn’t quite know how to handle that one. Then in the night, I woke up to find the girl prowling the house digging in drawers, snooping in the dark. It was a relief when she went home.

Police calls, party crashers, cake thieves. I wonder what next year will bring?