You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,
I love you more and more everyday.
On the morning of Friday, June 5th, Adam and I
got up and got ready for our day as usual.
However, on that morning, when we heard the familiar babbling from
Amelia’s room, we both rushed in with our camera. We sang “Happy Birthday” and snapped pictures
of our always-happy-in-the-morning not-such-a-baby girl. She laughed and clapped at the unexpected
morning excitement, only pausing to try to hide her eyes from the flash. And so began Amelia’s very first birthday.
This day
may have felt typical for Amelia in her one-year-old routine way, but for me,
for us, (and in truth, for Amelia) it was monumental. Just like all of Amelia’s firsts, we
anticipated her birthday. I have
confessed before that I love special occasions; I love marking time; I love
celebrations and nostalgia and surprises.
This one was no different; in fact, if anything, this particular
birthday was especially meaningful, even if the birthday girl had no idea why
she had a particularly awesome weekend.
All
birthdays contain a certain amount of nostalgia, looking back over the past
year, assessing what was good, what was bad, what has changed. Like most parents, Adam and I spent Amelia’s
birthday wrapped up in that nostalgia.
We constantly checked the time and reminisced about where we had been a
year ago at that time. Of course, this
birthday was starkly different than her actual birth day; there was much less
physical pain this year, but both years had cake. As far as the assessment of the past year,
I’ll hold off on that, so I can finish the story since I know you, reader, are
desperately eager to hear the rest of the story of Amelia’s graduation from
babyhood to toddlerhood.
On her
birthday, Amelia had French fries for lunch.
She gleefully swung in the baby swing at the park in Blowing Rock after
which she braved crawling through the tunnel and she had her first taste of ice
cream (vanilla from Kilwin’s; the verdict was “delicious” and “more”).
Later
that day, after opening presents from Mommy and Daddy, Amelia celebrated with
all four of her grandparents, her parents and her dog, all at once. She was one happy little girl, with the
exception of the five minutes when we tried to give her cake (oh, the
horror). When bedtime rolled around, she
was more than ready. As I tucked her in,
I found myself faced with another moment full of bittersweet and nearly
overwhelming nostalgia. She looked so
big in her sleep sack, holding her Amelia monkey blankie, wondering why I wasn’t
leaving the room. Once, not so long ago,
that crib had seemed to swallow her; she had seemed lost in the vastness of
it. Now, I marvel at how she manages to
flop around so much in her sleep even in spite of the four walls of crib
slats. Never again will the changes in
one year be so pronounced. Never again
will she need me, need us, in quite the same ways. Never again will she be a newborn or even a
baby.
I tore
myself from her crib-side and rejoined my parents, my in-laws and Adam. Once we were sure she was sound asleep, we
left Amelia with a babysitter and headed en masse to decorate for Amelia’s “You
Are My Sunshine” first birthday bash that was set to take place the day after
her birthday. This was one of those rare
times in life when the actual look of something nearly matches exactly what you
pictured. I hadn’t mapped out each
detail exactly, but the overall effect was perfect. First birthdays are controversial in their
own ways. Sure, the birthday child has
no idea what’s happening. Sure, it’s a
lot of work. Sure, it’s just as much, if
not more, for the parents. To all of
that I say, so what? I didn’t feel the
least bit stressed and I enjoyed every bit of throwing the party. Amelia will never have another first
birthday. If you had only had one
birthday, wouldn’t you want it to have been an awesome one?
And, whether she understood or not, when
party time came, Amelia partied hard.
She absolutely and unquestionably loved her party. She did not shed one tear, in spite of the
crowd and attention and “demands” of being the birthday girl. Instead, Amelia ate it up. She played with everyone, went to anyone who
wanted to hold her, ate her cake happily and opened all of her presents,
happily moving from one toy to another.
She may have fussed – and it may have been a lot – when we had to clean
the cake off of her, but to be fair, we couldn’t leave it caked in her hair and
of course, she had to change into her post-cake wardrobe.
The main
thing that I want to say about her party is thank you. I cannot express how much the party meant to
us and how much we loved seeing everyone love Amelia. To those of you who took time out of your day
or travelled or turned down other (possibly more exciting) plans or whatever
you did to be there with us, thank you.
Thank you.
After the
party, life mostly returned to normal, as it always seems to do. I am still trying to get used to saying I
have a one-year-old. Amelia is still
exploring everything, walking everywhere and learning how to communicate.
Milestones will continue to present themselves and then to be mastered. I hope and pray that Amelia will continue to
grow and learn. Not all birthdays will
be this big; whether or not we celebrate this way, this birthday will always
stand out. We will celebrate again, but
never again will it be her first birthday.
When you
bring a newborn home from the hospital, it seems as though they change every
day. Each moment brings something new
and even something exciting. However, at
the same time, the newborn phase can seem as though it will never end. Then, you wake up, and it’s a year
later. Your newborn is now a walking,
“talking,” playing, mile-a-minute toddler.
I can’t honestly say that I fully miss the newborn phase in its entirety,
but the memory of it does carry with it finality, only because Amelia will
never be there again. It’s both happy
and sad; one of the conundrums of parenting.
The happy
part is that we all got through one year of being a family of three. In fact, not only did we get through it, we
got through it well. Yay for us! Amelia is growing, learning and is pretty
much completely awesome already. That’s
a point for me and a point for Adam. So,
once more, (for this year at least) I’d like to wish you all a happy Amelia’s
birthday. I hope it was as happy for you
as it was for us.
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