Dear Mouse:
Today is your first birthday. Seriously where has this year gone? It seems just yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital. You have always had An opinion about things from the very first. Whether you were squeaking in your sleep, or raging about having your eyes covered by a hat, you have never hesitated to let us know how you feel. Such an emotive little girl.
I have never seen such determination in one so small either. Quite frankly it scares me. You just don’t give up. You threw yourself at the ground until you managed to roll over, and then again when trying to crawl. You are determined to do everything right.now. And heaven help anyone or anything who gets in your way.
You love books, and your Blue Bear. You love music and dancing and singing (except when momma is trying to sing you to sleep). You love throwing things in water, and my day is no longer complete until I’ve fished something out of the toilet or dog bowl or tub. You worship your big sister and want to do everything she is doing. You adore your dadadada and the happiest part of your day is when he comes home to you and picks you uppies for a hug and kiss. These are just a few of the things that make you happy.
On the other hand, you hate socks. Let’s be honest, anything covering your feet is evil. Socks, tights, footies, if it’s on your feet you want it off. You hate being told no. You really hate diaper and clothing changes. Naps? Sleeping? Pure evil designed by momma purely to torture you. Also for whatever reason, the hour between five and six in the evening has done you a personal injury, and you rage at it in protest. And you are not shy about telling us how you feel. You have the funniest baby rages.
In general you are a pretty chill baby though. You have the best laugh, and the most beautiful blue eyes. You throw yourself at life with all you’ve got. Go big or go home seems to be your mantra. You have taught me to chill out, to stop and take pleasure in the little things. The sunlight on your hand, your shadow on the kitchen floor, the fluffiness of Molly’s fur. You show me the absurd in daily life, and teach me patience when I’m pulling you out of the dog bowls for the third time in five minutes. You are teaching big sister to share, willingly or not!
This year has been a challenge on many fronts. But you my Mouseymoo, you have been the bright spot. Even when you frustrate me, and you do, you have made this year shine. Thank you Mouse, happy birthday.
