This last year has been an interesting one. While by no means an easy one, all of it's complications were easily forgotten. For the first time in my life I have something so concrete, so centering, so real that I know I can take on anything. For the last 365 days I have had days that I wanted to cry, days I wanted to yell and days I wanted to quit, but then you smile and it is all insignificant.
On this night, one year ago, your mom and I were scared out of our minds, but pretending to play the part of the cool parents who knew what they were doing. The hospital has a way of building you up with that false hope. The real challenge came when we got home, put you on the bed, sat down next to you, looked at each other and said "What Now"? We should of never asked, because you have been more then willing to let us know what we should be doing since.
So we read, followed our instincts, called our moms, talked to friends, and figured it out. I let you fall out of a chair on your head (it was a small fall... onto carpet, and you only cried for 12 seconds), Mom spoiled you by feeding you at your every whimper until the doc told her to stop (and I buckled her down). We let you get a nasty diaper rash, and let our cat attack you.
But you are doing ok.
You make us happy. You make us laugh. You make our family complete.
You melt away my stress and you make me want to live forever. You are doing just fine.
Happy First Birthday.
I love you,