Unbelievably, one year has passed since our daughter joined our little family. When thinking about what to say on this milestone day, I feel the way I feel when I unexpectedly win an award or recognition: speechless. I’ve read some beautiful pieces dedicated to writers’ children on their birthdays, stuff worthy of literature… Well, I’ve got none of that today. Obviously I love to write, and although I’m an introvert at heart, I normally don’t have trouble expressing myself when I need to. But I write today simply to say that having and raising this girl has changed me in more ways than I can describe.
She makes me want to be a better person, and yet every day I’m still failing in some way. I need to be more positive, more mindful of what I do and say and of the expressions I let cross my face. She seems to know if I’m upset because she’ll correspondingly cry. The other day she crawled into our fireplace (which is not connected to a fire source but is dirty and elevated a foot or so off the ground)… I think the shocked look on my face as I ran over to swoop her out of there whipped her into a frenzy. I want to do the right things in my life – take care of myself, eat to nourish my body, constantly strive for balance – so as to set a good example for her. It all has to be OK though, because I’m her only mother and I’m doing the best I can in any given moment.
One year is such a short time in the grand scheme of things, and yet it seems as if she’s been here all along. I have memories of my life before her, but it’s hard to remember myself without her. Happy birthday baby, on this day after Thanksgiving! I give quiet thanks for you every day.