Sunday, September 20, 2015

Happy 1st Birthday, Olivia!

To my darling Olivia, as you turn One:

I can't believe you are already a year old! In a few days, you will have been on this earth for one whole year. And what a year it has been! Your "Dada" and I are so happy to celebrate your time with us so far, and are so excited to see what the next 365 days have in store.

I want to start by saying that we love you. We love you so much it hurts. But it hurts in the best way possible. There really are not words to describe the love a parent has for their child, so I won't try, but hopefully a simple "we love you," will be enough for now, and forever. We are doing our best to show you that love.

I have so many things I want to say to you, so this letter might be a little disjointed. For this letter, I just want to speak from the heart - me to you.

Olivia Mae Anne, you are precious. You bring me unlimited joy every day. I love watching you learn, watching you grow, watching you change, and watching you play. I love your laugh, and your little "words," and your smile and the way you scrunch up your little nose and raise your eyebrows at the same time. I love your fuzzy hair (everyone loves your fuzzy hair). Your smile is infectious, your zeal for life makes everyone around you smile. I truly enjoy being with you and hearing what you have to say. Even if I don't understand the words yet!

Fuzzy hair and infectious smile. <3
I love the way you look like everyone in our family all at once. Last weekend, over the course of 48 hours, different people said you look like me, like your dad, like your grandma MaryAnne, like your grandpa ("pa-pah") Jeff, and like your Auntie Sarah. I see your dad's family in you too - your cousins Sydney and Katie, your grandparents, and your Aunt Kelly too. It's amazing how little babies can present so many "faces" of their family without even knowing it. You represent where you come from, but you are also your own independent self. I hope you can feel that your self is enough. Be true to yourself, but always remember where you came from. And always remember that we are all here for you, all of the time, either in body or in spirit.

When you were first born, a friend told me that "Motherhood is excruciatingly beautiful." She could not have been more right. Raising you has been a privilege and a challenge. The most joyful and most difficult thing I have ever done. And you're only 1! The sleepless nights, the endless nursing sessions, the countless diaper changes, the realization that I probably had some postpartum depression that I denied... It has been a hard year. But I can honestly say, after the first moment that I met you, I have never looked forward to anything more than the challenge of being a part of raising you up to be whatever you choose to be.

I've talked a lot about me, and my feelings. Let's talk about you, and who you are right now. You are curious and adventurous. You love being outside. Each day, you hold your little shoes up as you waddle towards me, and grin like all get out until we put them on and go outside. Today, I didn't move fast enough, so you took my hand and touched it to your shoe, then sat down and waited for me to put it on your foot. When we are outside you explore everything. You touch plants and dirt, and taste them too. Tiny rocks and flower blossoms hold your attention, and you watch the birds fly by and listen to dogs bark. And you taste anything that has been picked off of a vine, sprout, patch, or plant. Blackberries and grape tomatoes are pretty popular with you, but only when picked fresh. I think you are going to miss our garden in the winter.

Curious as you are, you are also cautious in the right situations: with new people, in new places, and anytime something is unfamiliar. First, you watch and listen, and you hold my hand or hug my leg or your dad's, and just take it all in. Once you have a handle on the situation, you ease into being your normal self. You socialize and engage, but first you evaluate. You find what is safe, and right, and familiar, and go from there.

You love to learn. You watch, listen, mimic, or just think about new words, sounds, sights, smells, tastes, and experiences. And then you make them your own. It's almost like we can actually see your brain forming new connections, and it's fascinating. Once you are ready for something, whatever it is, you take off. You did it with crawling, walking, waving, and talking. You do many things your own way, and are and not afraid to fall down or do something wrong until you get it right - even if "right" is a little bit different. I love that about you.

Finally, you have some things you really love, and with no other tool but to name them off, I'll just list them here: You love the PBS show "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood," and you stop in your tracks anytime you hear the theme song. You love blueberries, bananas, pears, waffles, yogurt, and oatmeal. The dog and cat are sources of endless joy and entertainment for you, much to their chagrin, and you love to chase them around the house.

You like to "wrestle" and do "baby attack," when me or your dad are lying on the floor with you: You run over to us and hug us tight, slobbering all over our faces and giggling. You also love to carry things that are bigger than you, or push them around across the floor, and you wear yourself down until you lay on the floor breathing hard with a huge smile on your face. But only for a moment, then you're back up and ready to go again. You also love to play on big person beds by crawling right up to the edge and nearly falling off. But somehow you never have (yet), even when we don't catch you right away. Then you burrow into the pillows and slide across the blankets in the most luxurious way, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone enjoy themselves so much.
Sometimes you let me rock you to sleep still. Even though you can totally do it on your own. I love that we can do both.
This past year has been a whirlwind of love and learning, of triumph and humility. You are truly one of a kind, and we wouldn't change a thing about you. Right now, we are the center of your world. I know that the older you get, the less that will be the case, and it should be - that's what growing up is about. Still, I hope that you will always save a little corner in your heart for your mommy and daddy. Because you will always have a big part of ours. Happy Birthday, little one. Here's to many, many more!





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