Year One

My Darling Daughter,

Well, we did it.
365 days later and you are still alive.
Your father and I are still married.
And we've only thrown one remote and one frying pan.
(Forgive us, but you just wouldn't stop crying!)
Ah, those were the early days. Last July. August. And probably September, too. All that crying.
Allllll that crying.
But now, my beautiful girl.
Now your smile lights up a room, my life.
Your infectious gap toothed grin, proudly displaying your 8 pearly whites.
Those razor sharp teeth which can clamp down on anyone (mostly me) with unparalleled strength for a mere 16 pound person.
And after that powerful chomp, you laugh.
Not because you intend to hurt, but because it's funny.
My face rearranged into a grimace from the pain, quickly changes once again as soon as your bubbly giggle fills the room.
Just like your toys.
They fill the room too.
Every corner, flat surface.
They're everywhere.
Just like you.
Scooting. Crawling. Walking.
You've left no room untouched.
No cabinet unexplored.
No dirt untasted (poor houseplants).
You've conquered it all.
And yet there's so much more that awaits you.
And us.
What new adventures will year 2 bring?
Only time will tell.

Happy birthday.
And thank you.
Thank you for bringing me the joy I didn't know I needed, more love than I knew possible, and the wrinkles I won't admit to having.