On the Night You Were Born, Part 2

This morning you woke early, it was still dark outside, and your Poppa scooped you out of your crib and brought you into bed with us. You fussed for a minute, kicked around the covers and then settled down between the two of us as we all sank into a deep sleep. I awoke, this time with sun streaming in the window, to feel you kissing the back of my shoulder and sweetly inquiring, "Mama 'wake now?" How could I not wake up with a smile on my face? How could this day, two years from the day that we labored together to bring you to this place, be anything but joyful?

It seems impossible that two years ago tonight I was sitting in a bathtub with you inside of me. Tonight you sat all by yourself in a bathtub telling me that you were pouring water on your turtles feet and you needed a washcloth to keep the soap out of your eyes. How did you manage to grow from a seven pound 12 ounce, squirming little newborn to a child who can express empathy, rage (I want snack, RIGHT NOW!), love and tenderness so quickly?

Tomorrow we will celebrate your second birthday with Nona and Grandaddy. But tonight I sit and marvel, in much the same way I did last year, at the passage of time and the beauty of it all. You were meant to be here; I was meant to be your momma and poppa was meant to be your poppa. And every day we learn together how to fill our place in each other's lives. I wake up every morning so thankful that I call you my sweet baby girl and you call me Momma.

The night you were born was the very beginning, a stunningly beautiful beginning, and every day that's passed since has been a journey of discovery. I can't wait to find out where you take me next. Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl. I love you.

All Who Wander Are Not Lost

It's been a jam packed month and a half and the pace of life isn't slowing down anytime soon. I think you thrive on this.

We've noticed, over the past few months that you have no qualms at all about leaving our side and wandering away. Part of me likes this fierce streak of independence, the other part of me worries about your physical safety. The other night we were strolling the grounds of the Botanical Gardens with some friends and one of them commented on how comfortable you were being far, far away from us. Indeed, you had run down the walkway and behind a grove of trees without a single backwards glance. He made the observation that perhaps this was because we had spent so much time with you as an infant. Now, I don't know how much this guy knows about attachment theory parenting but I admit my heart swelled with pride. The whole idea of attachment parenting is that you spend a lot of time in very close contact (sleep sharing, baby wearing, holding infants constantly) so that they develop a very secure attachment at the base which allows them to explore with confidence later in life. You seem to be comfortable wandering about 16 years too early for my taste.

For the majority of the time I was writing this blog post you were sitting by my side working hard on getting the camera back in the camera case. A few seconds ago, you reached over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "bye, bye, see you later." You hopped off the couch with the camera case hung over your shoulder and turned around to say, "dinner." Which I assumes means we should expect to see you back for dinner. I wonder where your little wandering heart will take you today?

The pictures are from a recent trip to Alabama to visit Dot and Charles (Poppa's first cousin once-removed but we prefer to just call them kinfolk). They are pretty special folks to us and we had a good night and morning visiting at their house and wandering their property. You are amazed that Charles never wears shoes. The will be more blog posts in the next day or two detailing our recent trip to New England. Right now, we have some exploring to do. Perhaps at the new Piedmont Park swimming pool?