It's over 10,000 meals attempted, if not actually consumed.
It's probably about 2000 times I went into my room and closed the door and hoped for a moment of peace - or inspiration - or restraint.
It's about 1000 "I can't find my shoes!" and about 500 "Oh, I didn't realize" and about 300 "I used to like it but now I don't."
About 200 times discussing "why do I have to go to school??" and about 150 intelligent discussions of human history wondering why Jews, blacks, women, etc were ever discriminated against.
Probably about 75 wet beds, but not for a very long time, bli ayin hara.
About a round dozen times I cleaned up puke off the floor.
10 times taking her to America (I think).
Getting closer to zero, we have times I hit her (once - and immediately we both started bawling), and broken bones (1 - many years after the time I hit her!).
She was born.
About a day in labor, but in the hospital for three days.
9 months of pregnancy (9.5, bless her late little heart).
About - and this is an approximation - 370 injections in those 9.5 months.
6.5 years of waiting for her.
Thank you God for my beautiful, utterly perfect, perfectly flawed, utterly human and special and unique eldest child.
Happy birthday, Sarah Rochel. Happy birthday.
Who needs cake? Birthday sushi!
Now go do the laundry, kid.