|first look (please excuse the petechiae all over me, labor was hard work)|
Today is your birthday. Your first birthday. You got up and enjoyed (by dancing and smiling) me singing "happy birthday to you". You ate oatmeal for breakfast and watched Elmo, took your nap, ate macaroni and cheese with butternut squash for lunch and I am making you pumpkin waffles for dinner. Lots of playing with your new toys you got from your party. You took one step by yourself today from the edge of the couch to grandma. All of this while wearing your pink cupcake shirt and your baby pink tutu and black leggings and mary jane socks (I couldn't resist).
It's hard to believe it's been a year in the way that you still seem like a baby to me, not a "toddler". It's not hard to believe it's been a year in the way that I have forgotten what I did with myself and all my time before I was a mother. In some ways it's hard to remember how it was without you. You make everything so different and so vivid.
What a year.
title courtesy of Linda Ronstadt: just one look