Happy birthday!

  

Dear Juliet,

Happy birthday!  One year ago, you changed my life in the most amazing way.  In one year, you have taught me so much about life, love, laughter, and (at times) survival that I feel like you could be several college and military courses rolled into one.  Your dad and I constantly marvel at our capacity to love you and how your addition to our family has made us love each other more.  You are such a blessing!

This past month, you've started doing some really cool things.  For starters, you walk now.  You gave me the most amazing birthday present by walking for the first time while your dad was home.  Being able to share that moment with him was so cool.  Now, you walk all over the place; you walk more than you crawl, and you've even tried to run a couple of times.  You also shake your head "no" when I try to give you things you don't want (like watermelon this weekend).  I have no idea where you learned this, but it's so fun to watch you communicate clearly with others now.  You have learned to hand me things when I ask for them.  This is very sweet when you share your toys with me unprompted, and it's very helpful when you hand me things I don't want you to chew on (like the rubber tub stopper).  You say, "key" which is Juliet for "kitty."  You also say, "Dada" when prompted, and we're working on "Mama."  I think that you're trying to say, "dog" or "Ninja" but it comes out "guh."  You're just so consistent with it - you say it all the time when you see Ninja, so I think that's your word for her.  You're getting pretty good with waving good-bye, but you have a tendency to do it right after the person you should be waving to finally gives up and turns to leave, so he or she misses it.  I have no doubt, though, that you will master the timing soon.

Your dad and I were talking about our life a year ago.  On September 30, 2012, we were both nervous.  I was nervous about giving birth, nervous about being a mom, and nervous about making the decision to induce.  (Your dad, apparently, was quite nervous about it all, too, but he never let on to me that he was anything other than perfectly calm and confident.  He does that a lot, you know.  He stays calm when those around him are scared or nervous because he knows that it helps them feel calm.  It helps a lot; I know it's helped me, and I've seen how his calm demeanor can help calm you down, too.) But in spite of our nervousness, we went on the hospital on October 1.  Your Aunt E was there as our nurse, and she and your dad talked a lot to keep things lighthearted and relaxed.  You were very cooperative and came fairly quickly without a whole lot of fuss.  When you were born, I felt strangest, most awesome feeling of complete happiness.  I had never felt anything like that before - the closest I'd ever come was the day I married your daddy.  When they put you on my chest, I looked at your daddy and said, "We've got a baby!"  (Aunt E still laughs about this.)  I felt so calm and so happy.  You were this perfect child, totally healthy (seriously, your apgar scores were great).

In the year since that night, you've continued to be this totally healthy, pretty perfect child.  (And let me be honest here.  Deep down, I think you're perfect.  But I don't want to be one of those parents who foolishly believes her kid is perfect.  Nobody's perfect.  You're going to become a teenager and mess up.  Everyone does.  So I have to remind myself that you're "pretty perfect" just to try to keep some perspective so that I'm not crushed when you act like a human and make a mistake.)  We think you're brilliant and sweet and beautiful.  I haven't had you tested for MENSA yet, but I feel certain you'd get in. 

This past year hasn't always been easy (it's hard when no one in the house is sleeping), but it has been literally awesome.  (When you're older, I'll talk to you about this year, 2013, and how the dictionaries all made a grave error and changed the meaning of "literally."  I feel certain you'll grow up to be someone who will appreciate how much this upset me.)  I thank God for you every day, and every day, I pray that He will protect you and let you grow up to be healthy and strong. 

I cannot wait to see what this next year with you brings.  Keep your independent spirit, little girl.  It's one of my most favorite things about you.

I love you mucho,
Mama