It's the Eve. The eve of my last baby's year of firsts. The eve of a birthday that will actually classify my baby as a toddler, well at least that's the box that I will tick off on paper. Toddler...the word frightens me a little. My baby, my last baby is going to be a toddler. In the last year she has learned to walk, learned to talk, to run, to play, to have wee conversations with people, even if she is the only one who can understand what she is saying. Since her last birthday she has gained an abundance of talents and accomplishments. We are so proud of her but my heart races a little to have to say out loud, "I have a two year old." It's a sentence that I have used in the past, but after today I won't ever get to say, " I have a one year old."
I remember waking every morning for the past year, each and every day, although I don't remember how 364 days passed with such a rush. It's so bitter-sweet, this birthday. There is nothing quite like watching a child find their own path in the world. I loved watching apprehensive, as Alyson took her first steps on wobbly little dimpled legs, I loved hearing her say "Mama" for the first time. I love how she reaches up for me when I am picking her up out of her crib. Those milestones are what makes my heart feel as if it will burst with pure happiness. Although this pure happiness is tinged with a tiny bit of great sadness.
From now on I have to trust my memory to keep all of those firsts in a safe place in my mind, to be able to replay over and over as the endless streams of 365 days speed past.
Alyson, my sweet child I hope you have the most happiest of birthdays. I promise a day filled with love and devotion, sugar and kisses and when there's just a few minutes of alone time, a snuggle. Now, let's go and move some mountains!