A year. 365 days. I had no idea. Not a clue. How incredible this journey would be.

I can’t believe it’s already been a year, I keep reflecting on all the great and not so great moments. Sitting in the bath with you tonight, giggling and playing “Where’s Pony” again and again and again, I was overcome with such immense gratitude for this life, but most importantly for you and your Dad. I think I was born with a horseshoe up my ass, a saying your Dad loves and one I thought was reserved for other people. Not me. But not any longer. I LOVE being your Mom. And it’s not easy, hell no, it is the hardest thing I have EVER done. But the divine moments in between the whining and crying and lack of sleep more than make up for any emotional inconveniences or wringers.

You have irreparably changed me, Pony. I am unrecognizable to myself. And that is a good thing.

Although, I don’t really know who I am, today. In a strange sort of limbo, a hazy peaceful serene state of wonder, awe, and complete curiosity only about, “what is next?” My whole past has fallen by the wayside. It no longer seems to rule me. I have this sense of letting it go and forgiving completely and freely those I “thought” ever wronged me. I don’t care anymore. I have been so blessed my entire life, I know that with every fiber of my being, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here today, right now, living this life with you and Tim. It wouldn’t be possible. The evidence is irrefutable. I have lived a charmed life. I guess I have to throw out the “memoir” and begin anew. It’s an old story I am sick of telling anyhow. No longer relevant. No longer do I care.

Now. This. Is. IT.

So rad.

I don’t yet understand the women that tell me “uh-oh, she’s walking?? Watch out…” because watching how happy walking makes you, the freedom and independence it gives you, is such a joy. I am loving it. And the day you decided to crawl up all the stairs by yourself, just suddenly, one day, out of the blue, the look on your face when you reached the top was priceless. I want to savor every juicy minute of these days. I feel like they are really precious, when you are this age.

One year old.

It’s an awesome age.

I am really digging it.

I feel like we are communicating on a whole other level and it’s so fun learning who you are, what you like and don’t like. What you think is funny. Farts. You think farts are funny. And burps, and sneezes. You love lapping up streaming water like a dog. But forget about swimming in it. You have begun to lounge on things, pillows, couches, the bed and smile like you’ve just smoked a fat joint. Sometimes you look at me like we’ve been best friends for a lifetime and I’ve just done that thing again that you think is so immature and weird. It stops me in my tracks.

Who are you?

Where did you come from?

I swear I’ve met you before.

Thank you for picking me. I am honored to share this life with you.

Mom