The First Year

You don’t have the ability to read (unless you’re not telling me something) but in a couple of years, my sweetheart, you will understand. You’ll know how much this day means to not only me but also to you. We’ve done something amazing, Daughter. We’ve survived the first year. You didn’t have any clue that you should have been frightened by the prospect of being mothered by me. I’ve never done this before. I know, I know–Mommy makes it look so easy.

The truth is that it is easy but it’s not because I am so amazing. It’s because you are. At one year old I am giving you permission to keep being just that. Don’t lose the special joy you share with me everyday. Don’t lose the light in your brilliant eyes, don’t let the shadows remove the heat of the sun from your face. You, my dear, are amazing. I’m telling you this now, at one, so that you’ll remember at 5, 13, 18, and beyond (when you really need to know it). You are amazing because you were born with God’s Grace and Love, and to be amazing and feel amazing requires only that. I’m giving you permission to be you. To grow your teeth slowly, and walk when you feel confident enough to walk. Don’t listen to the judgments. You’re not in competition with anyone except for you. I’m allowing you to let your hair grow at it’s own pace, suck your thumb if you like. Be exactly who you were born to be.

You’re one. The world will impose on you soon enough so enjoy this time of innocence. I didn’t know how special¬†innocence¬†was until I saw it glowing on your radiant face. At one, it’s a treasure; by eighteen, a liability. You have my permission to treasure the innocent time you inhabit now. You are a glorious child on whose face I see God daily. I won’t have to tell you how much I love and cherish you because it’s my plan to show you loudly everyday. You are my special, kind, bright, brilliant genius-in-the-making and I love every glorious cell in your glorious body. Thank you for being an amazing child to mother.

Lucky for you, Mommy’s a writer and she has to express herself or she’ll burst. This will embarrass you in the future but for now and a couple years, I hope it warms your chubby cheeks and huge heart.

Happy Birthday Poopy Monster