In later years, the memory of my birth would be a faded blur, and thank all the gods for that. Silly ninnies might coo over it “Oh it’s the most natural thing in the world! It’s magical and lovely and beautiful!”  Bullshit. Ok, I’ll give you natural, but beautiful? no way in hell. It’s gross, and sticky and uncomfortable and scary. I can’t, now thankfully will I ever, understand how it felt for mother, but I didn’t like it one damn bit.

I went from one warm thing to another, but where the first warm thing was dark and smooth and kind of woosh-y, the second was about a thousand percent less awesome. Sand. I’d come to know the word well, but now it was categorizeded in my mind as “UGHHHH!” it scratched my nose—hell, actually got IN my nose, the little grainy bastards.

All of the sudden there was something near me upon the plain of UGHHHH, though it was a thing I knew well: “The One Who Kicks!” We’d been together since who even knows how long. Now though, finally free of our confines and not forced to fight with her for space, I didn’t like being so far away from her. We were pals! Or at least we were familiarities that would be pals once we work out that concept. In opening my eyes I discover that they’re literally the coolest. Everything is bright and crazy but there’s just so MUCH to see! First, a wet-orangey-squirmy thing….OH! It’s Kicky McKickerson, I like her. And another thing…. omgomgomgomg its touching me what even is that?! Oh, a mom. She’s brown and warm and still slightly woosh-y (I don’t know what sighing or exhaustion is so cut me some slack!) and I like her too.

Kicks McGee smacks into me again and I turn my indignant muddy red eyes toward her to see what the heck she’s up to. Standing looks like more work than it’s worth, to be honest but what mad worth his salt lets his sister beat him. Up I get! Or try… It’s an arduous process. Front legs up? Check, but then I shift my focus a little to thoroughly to my back legs and no sooner do i get them straight than my front legs forget what legs are supposed to to and I fall into a gangly kind of summersault.

Well, she beat me to it. I peer, mostly upside-down and only mildly annoyed at my sister as the stands like a pro and all I can think is how I want to do it to. Withe more that a few heave-ho’s to get myself right side up again I give standing another try, and smack my ass and call me cupid if I don’t make it all the way up this time! Excited beyond belief, I look up at  my sister—what was it that the mom called her? “Vassa!” I chirp, evidently super proud of both of us and take a tottering step or two towards her before trying to gum one of her ears.