Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Emma - 1 Year

Dearest Little Em,

Your first birthday has come and gone. I find myself struggling to put into words my emotions at the passing of this milestone. Our last wee little babe is growing up.

You have have emerged from the drowsy early days of babyhood into the strong morning light and I find that you are a calm, happy, fierce, opinionated girl.  Darling, you are magnificent.


This morning I was watching you and Ben play, passing a toy back and forth. You sat on the bed and Ben lay on the floor. You’d lean over and open up your chubby little fist, watching as the toy dropped down to your brother. He’d grab it and toss it in your direction and the both of you laughed uproariously. Observing you play together, with such uninhibited joy, is a dream. I know that there will likely be future arguments and disagreements amongst you siblings but for this particular minute, on this day, it was glorious.

Emma, you are enthralled by your family. You want to be where Benjamin is, or Bailey, or your parents. And if you’re not with your family, then I'll find you burrowed in Ben’s bed, making yourself  cosy amongst the blankets and toys. You have perfected the art of lounging. I can also tell that you delight in being deliciously naughty, as Ben’s room is firmly off-limits when he’s home.

People comment on your easy-going nature and calm demeanor. You are a little buddha, in both body and temperament. You are a baby that loves a good audience. You like to make sure we’re watching when you try out new toys and climb over the dog. Chris was on a business trip for a few days and tonight you were particularly keen on making sure that he’s up to date on your latest tricks.

While generally happy and smily, we’ve learned very quickly that you are intractable on a certain issues. Heaven forbid we try to remove food or a toy from your grasp; this results in an immediate and extremely vocal voicing of displeasure. Don’t mess with this baby. We’re convinced your first sentence is going to be: “Ben, hands off my stuff!” You younger siblings are tough by default.

The other day I had you snuggled in my arms and it was a moment that I’ll remember for the rest of my life: your head tilted against my chest, your soft baby smell, and your heavy weight in my lap as you drifted off to sleep. This is happiness, I thought. I’ve lived an incredibly fortunate, happy life in thirty-four years, yet so rarely does the actual thought, this is pure happiness, come vividly to mind. I am so lucky to be your mother, Emma.

We are eagerly awaiting your next adventures.

Love, Mama









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