I woke Bee up this morning, just a short few weeks after her first birthday. And as she held up her hands from the depths of her crib, repeating Baba (her word for Mama), she suddenly seemed older — more worldly and wise. And I realized just how beautiful this stage of growth and transition and blooming can be.
A 1-year old loves fearlessly, with arms open to the world — ready for adventure and compassion and joy. They long for exploration and experiences (as long as their tribe is close by in case their feet fill with doubt). They embrace the time they’re given, whether that gratitude manifests itself in the slow savoring of summer grapes or the awe and admiration of bubbles blowing in the wind.
It’s a beautiful thing, yes? Suddenly, our babies are growing into individuals with loads of personality and joy and promise. But they haven’t fully blossomed, of course. The 1-year old is stuck somewhere between infancy and toddlerhood — between milk and juice, diapers and potties, booties and sneakers. And although their innocence is palpable in this moment, I realize it will soon grow into something else entirely: wisdom and perspective and experience — gifts that only time can grant.
The magic of this moment is not lost on me. We are parents, watering our 1-year-old lilies and watching for signs of growth. We’re hoping they’ll grow bigger and taller and stronger, all while secretly praying they stay exactly how they are in this very moment — with their tiny arms raised to the sun, basking in today.
And I hope the same for me. As I grow bigger and taller and stronger, may I celebrate the everyday — the good and the bad and the hard and the beautiful. May I celebrate the magic of today, 1-year-old lily in tow.