Bun year old
On Friday night I re-read my journal entries from the day before Bun Bun was born, and the entries following. It was an uncapturable experience, but the things I recorded brought back some of the intensity of those moments. The pure joy and awe and love…
And on Saturday my little daughter turned one. I did a fair bit of sniveling throughout the day. I shed a few tears when we read her the Dr. Suess birthday book, which has always been (and still is) a birthday feature in my family. I sniveled a LOT at 8:33, thinking about how completely the little creature with smears of banana on her face had changed since the first time I heard her thin little wail.
I cried when we gave her her present, this adorable shopping cart we just couldn’t resist. She’s working on walking and loves putting things in other things–what could be better? And since I mainly give her empty boxes and sticks to play with, I figured she deserved an actual TOY.
I cried when we presented her with her cake. I’d dithered for a while about the whole CAKE thing. Should I make her a joyless hippie cake like the kind I was raised on? Should I make a real cake and then not give her any? In the end I went with a real cake, a tiny one, made in the style of a hostess cupcake.
We put a candle it it. We sang happy birthday to her. We blew out her candle. I gave her a small fragment of cake. She threw it instantly on the floor with a look of utter disgust. Then her father and I ate it. It was fucking delicious.
I teared up when I put her to bed, when she rested her little head on my shoulder.
The morning she was born, I was so overwrought at the idea of being separated from her. And I still feel a powerful longing for her to stay as she is, because she’s so perfect. But I’m also reassured by the way that she’s been perfect in each and every phase. It’s been a tremendous year.