Today, at 9:52 AM, you tuned 1 year old. Yes, I remember the minute. (The only thing I had in clear view in that hospital room was the giant clock.) I must have blinked, because here we are, a year gone by.
Your first year has flown so much more quickly than your brother, Sammy’s. You’re lightning fast. You are already quite the walker, you latest development this past month. What you may lack in finesse, you make up in style. People stop to watch you walk.
You’ve also started to give hugs, at least in part. You wrap your hands around my shoulders, and I can feel a little squeeze. Sometimes, you’ll snuggle into my neck, just a bit, and I turn completely to goo. It’s a good thing you don’t know that yet, or you might use it to get your way, and it would work. I’d probably give you the car keys in that moment.
It was no easy road getting you here. It’s a story for another time, but I like to say that I was really only pregnant with you for 3 months. We didn’t know about you until almost 4 months in (nobody really believes that, but it’s true), and the last 2 has so many challenges that pregnancy symptoms took a backseat. But never you. As dear Willie says, you were always on my mind. And then, 12 months ago, in a few heartbeats from the time I stepped foot in the hospital, you were here. It took me awhile to formally name you, but I had to see you first, to make sure. It’s a good fit.
You’re still super smiley, and you’re quite proud of your accomplishments. And you’re strong. You can fling a plate across the room and shatter it like you’re Alexis Carrington (remind me to teach you about the glory days of primetime soaps). You test my patience daily, and you stretch the capacity of my heart daily. You’re full of life, and I’m so grateful.
You can be a bully, but I think that’s more a general trait of a baby sister growing up under a big brother. Not that Sammy puts the hammer down on you (in fact, he’s remarkably tolerant of you most of the time, but you do push his buttons with some frequency, and he’s still getting used to you), but you seem to have come out hard wired with a fierceness that lets us know you will stand your ground.
I am not a little bit terrified of you as a teenager.
Happy Birthday, my little girl. I can’t wait to see what you do next. As long as it doesn’t ruin the carpet.