You completed your first year of life today. A year of figuring out the world.
Realizing it's better to crawl on Grandma's hardwood floor by the door than walk with slippery socks. Better to fall asleep in the highchair rather than fight it. Better to watch big brother and his antics than to protest or scowl. Sometimes your gaze freezes your stocky little body until you decide to join in full force.
You're such a friendly baby. PaPaw says little old ladies in the grocery store stop and talk to you. It's that hair piece your momma puts on you. Feminizes you. But as you age, I think you'll know how to rough it up with brother Jack, because as a newborn, your little hands were in fists as if to say, "I'm ready to rumble!" As you aged, your face began to match it.
When Jack does weird stuff (like crawling in a narrow box or wearing a weird wig), you just observe. No furrowed brow. No scowl. No hands on the hips. No eye rolling. I'm sure that'll come in time.
|The Bad Guys Picture|
And those times will come. It's part of being human. In the meantime, I age right along with you and sometimes find it easier to crawl than walk on sore feet. Easier to nod off for a few minutes instead of getting ready for bed. Easier to just to watch rather than join in.
But I promise, baby Aria, I'll do my best to keep moving, exercising, and eating right, so I can experience more of you learning about how to live in this big beautiful world God has us in.
Happy first birthday, my precious granddaughter.