Party Pics

The birthday girl. With a fresh bruise smack dab in the middle of her forehead. The hazards of walking....







Opening presents...





The smash cake


The smashed cake.

Amelia is one today, and I'll be honest, I'm a little sad about it. "One" marks the end of infancy. "One" is the beginning of toddlerhood, which, as you may know, inevitably turns children into preschoolers and then grade schoolers and then before you know it, my last baby is packing her bags for her study abroad at Oxford before she completes her fellowship in rocket science at MIT. And then goes on tour with her sisters a la The Partridge Family. Only a LOT cooler. But still with a van.

Anyway.

It's hard to believe we've had Amelia for 12 months. Those 12 months have flown by at an unbelievable rate, but still, I'm shocked at how slow some of the moments have been. Today, I was flipping through last year's calendar (looking for the number of our heater repair guy--don't get me started) and came across three phone numbers for our beloved Dr. J on April 17. That's the day we found out about Amelia's PHPV. That's the day we sat across from a man we'd never met and he told us our daughter had been given a challenge. That's the day we sat in frozen fear, Jason asking for more information, me motionless in a brown leather chair, clutching Amelia, too scared, too shocked to move. That's the day we cried a thousand tears, unsure of what our baby's future held.



And now look at her. She's walking EVERYWHERE. She gets into EVERYTHING. She says "Mama" and "Baa" and "Ah boo!". She giggles at her sisters and loves to be tickled. She has a certain fondness for grilled cheese, chocolate, and strangely, Arden's flip flops. She stops and dances whenever she hears music and she has recently discovered the joy of screaming.




She is doing exactly what she should be doing and you have no idea how grateful we are for that.

Happy birthday, my sweet, sweet baby girl!

This One's For My Sister