Baby is not so much a baby anymore (Or: Birthday hysteria, from Audrey's mother)

Opening prezzies...

Reading with Gramma Jean...


Eating cupcakes delivered by our friends. Audrey crumbled hers into the carpet.


So. Audrey turned one today. One. Astonishing. While Scott and I are still drafting the publishable-quality letters that we intend to write for Audrey on the occasion of her first birthday for her to unseal when she turns 18, here are a few of my less polished thoughts.

We put her to bed tonight, as usual, by reading her a story and then turning down the lights so I can feed her and let her fall asleep in my arms (I know, not according to best-laid sleep plans, but there you are, it's what works) and I felt as if she had grown a full year in an instant. Only a few minutes ago-- wasn't it?-- I was holding this limp, kidney-bean-colored creature who had been allowed to return home with us from Mt. Auburn. Scott felt for weeks that this could only have been the result of gross incompetence or clerical error on the part of the hospital staff, to release a newborn into our care. A newborn! To us! What were they thinking? And now here I was holding a nineteen pound one-year old, with bruised knees from crawling and some hummos stuck in her hair, who had just an hour before been making calls on her baby cell phone.

I miss the newborn reflex where they fling their arms out wide all of a sudden. I miss the tiniest of the tiny diapers. I do not miss getting into bed at 7:00 pm to try to collect at least five hours of sleep during the night, counting interruptions. I do not miss the breast pump. I miss her at one month, and two months and three months... I can't quite believe that those times are over already.

But now we are the parents of someone who knows how to hold hands, turn pages, eat cheerios, bestow kisses, growl like a lion, and dance. We will be missing this exact moment in her life soon enough, so we'll just try to pay attention to every detail and hope that she can forgive us for our bad writing when she opens those letters.