Dear Julia,
You are now one year old. Good job.
We celebrated today by going to Dunkin Donuts with the working man’s crowd to get 25 chocolate Munchkins. You watched Elmo at home while taking one bite out of each donut and handing the rest to me.
This first year of your life has been exhausting, hectic, a true learning experience and a lot of fun. I’ve grown in ways people who don’t have kids don’t know to be possible. I’ve seen you grow from a baby Donald Duck in my tummy to an adorable little girl on the verge of becoming a full-fledged toddler.
Lately you’ve grown one whole tooth and are trying to get 4 more out at once. You’ve decided now that you’re one whole year old, that you can walk. You look incredibly pleased with yourself.
Your grandmother (one of many) sent you a stuffed dog holding a stuffed birthday cake with stuffed candles. When you squeeze the cake, it plays happy birthday. Twice. The second it stops, you grab a candle, hold it up to me and go “mmhhrrrrph!!” which apparently means, “Play again mommy!”
Oh, by the way, you can finally say mah-mah, and it’s the sweetest sound ever. It helps me overcome my exhaustion and burning arms so that I can hold you and carry you around even longer.
Your daddy and I have switched evening duties. I bathe you and he rocks you to sleep now. I don’t know how I feel about it since two out of the last three nights you’ve pooped in the tub. And your daddy just scrubbed all of the soap scum out!
You love to slide and swing. You try really hard to be like the big kids at our play dates at the mall. This week you discovered all of the strollers and think they’re toys. You’ve tried to escape play land and steal a stroller or two. You’ve also tried to make a break for the ill-placed stairway that runs up and over the play area. The builders left a few gaps in the play fence. Someone should really tell them that just because they couldn’t fit through there; it doesn’t mean a toddler can’t.
Joules, you are the light of my life. You’re the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen. You’re sweet and loving and clever and determined. You’ll try any kind of food. You love edamame, French fries, and black olives (ewww).
I am SO lucky that YOU came out of my belly. You rock, child.
Love,
mommy
