My big, beautiful, bouncing, brilliant baby girl turned one whole year old yesterday. The three of us strolled through the neighborhood for hours, stopping for lunch and to get groceries to make lasagna and a chocolate cake. We talked and talked about everything, and crunched through the streets while the red leaves swirled overhead. It's hard to find words to describe my joy that she is in the world.
This morning she sleeps with her head on my lap; I type this one letter at a time with my left index finger while my right hand holds her little foot. It was a big weekend, with a big birthday party, and lots and lots of people, and grandparents visiting, and an apple festival, and a fancy lunch downtown, and lots of beautiful new things to play with. Today we're laying low; maybe a walk later to go get some rosemary-mint shampoo, and to take a ride on the swings. It's a gorgeous day here, with squirrels romping, and the smell of woodsmoke lingering, and this rosy, gorgeous, glowing October light filling the windows, which seems like the perfect present for my darling's first ever day of being one.