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Thursday, July 9, 2015

One.





Sometimes, I look at her and I see a baby.  Sometimes, I look at her and I see a toddler.  Other times, I see a young woman, hiding in there -- who will that young woman be?  Will I meet her in the blink of an eye?  Who is my daughter now, who is my daughter becoming?  





We celebrated her first birthday at Scuffletown Park.  It is one of our/my favorite places in Richmond, and one of the places I missed most when we left (thankfully) briefly.  I love that I can share this place with her.  That I can share all my loves with her.  Pocket parks.  Green grassy places for bare feet.  Chimes that aren't too insistent, just chimey enough.  Hidden places not immediately knowable -- secret spots known only to people who have discovered them, or people who have asked.

I wore rabbits.  I remember wearing a different rabbit shirt when we went to the clinic.  I wore rabbits because I wanted every shred of luck I could conjure up.  Now I wear rabbits to celebrate.  She fills my heart with springing joy.  A whole bunny warren lives in my heart now.



I want to help her become the best version of herself.  I know she's helping me become a better version of myself, that's for sure.  Parenthood has made me more direct.  More grateful.  More open, more honest.  I have fewer figs to give.  Is that a good life lesson to learn?  To give fewer figs?  It feels grand.

So, my sugar plum, my ginger snap, you are one.  You love when Patrick or I take off our glasses -- perhaps you can see our eyes better?  You love rubber ducks.  You love risotto.  You are a discerning giggler.  You think dogs are funny.  You are gentle.  You like being surprised.  You are a wiggler, never still, not for a moment.



Who will you be next year?

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