You are a newly minted one year old, and even though I’m pretty sure you have no idea what age you are, somehow you still grew a foot and became a little girl all in one special day. I don’t want to admit that now I’m supposed to call you “toddler,” because baby? You’re my baby. The last one I’ll have. Is it ok if I always call you my baby? The only girl among many brothers, you have them all wrapped around your (now one year old) finger, and you can still do no wrong in their eyes. Let’s see how long that lasts, shall we?
I remember what it was like when you first looked into my eyes, and when you first smiled. When you first giggled, and when you (thanks to the heavens above) first slept through the night. I remember how delicately you handled that first birthday cake, and how you ate it so slowly and daintily and then growled like a hound dog when we tried to take it away from you. I was so proud.
I remember everything, and I want you to know that even though time is moving so very fast, I remember all the little things that much more knowing this: you’re it. The baby of my babies. It ends with you!
Thank you for your one thousand facial expressions and all your personality, because you keep me on my toes and feeling younger than I am in real life. I’d like to continue to file a request that you slow down and even though I know you won’t listen (Oh but you are stubborn! But see how mama didn’t mention that?) I just can’t stop asking.
Let’s always play in my makeup and jewelry like you’ve already started doing, ok? Let’s never fight and let’s always laugh so much.
Happy first birthday darling girl!