Saturday, April 30, 2011

What more is there to say?

Today she turned one.

I can remember -- some of it very vividly -- every moment of her birth. Of waking in the night, of timing contractions, of trying to convince myself this wasn't it. Of driving to the hospital, still talking and sometimes laughing. Of the 20 minutes of screaming and the surprisingly fast delivery.

I don't understand how something I remember so clearly could be so long ago.

She laughs, she cruises, she is in to everything. She wants to constantly be involved. Her big blue eyes are complimented everywhere we go. Her feet are so tiny that while she's in 12 month clothes, she's still in six month shoes. I can't find boots for her anywhere.

She has a tiny tail of the last of her dark birth hair down the back of her neck. The rest of her hair is a light auburn colour. Kinda. Ish. The birthmarks that covered her eyelids and forehead at birth are mostly faded, but they darken up when she's upset, or too hot.

She is fascinated by her brother's toys, and tries to put lego together but can't quite manage it. But she'd much rather play with anything of his than anything of hers.

She's trying so hard to talk and walk, and the effort to master two major things at once is too much, and she can't quite do either. She says "mama" and "dada" but not really to either of us; she can imitate me saying "hiding" and "babies" because those two words are repeated in her favourite books. She loves pointing out the birds in her books. Her favourite books have birds as the main characters. No idea why.

She loves books. After months of kinda pushing them away, of not really getting it, now it's all she wants to do. The last few times we've had tears it's because I've stopped reading. You know. After the tenth time. Unlike her brother she will want to do the same book over and over and over and over again, for days on end -- and then never again.

She is almost entirely a being of pure delight. Her smiles are full body experiences, her entire body quivering in delight, tensing herself and kicking her legs in happiness. I love seeing her first thing in the morning and cuddling her last thing at night. I love her more than life itself.

She's been here only a year, but it feels like forever.

1 comment:

erin said...

Happy birthday, little Miss D! :)