ONE.

I can’t even believe I’m writing this right now, but my kid is ONE. I have a one year old. I’ve been a mom for 12 months. WHAT.


Funny how all the stereotypical parental sayings are turning out to be one-hundred percent accurate.
“They just grow up so fast.”
“Parenting is the toughest job there is.”
“It’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
ALL TRUE. I guess that’s why people say them. Because they’re true.

This first birthday has created a strange mixture of feelings inside me. Disbelief/happiness/sentimental to the max/pride/joy/compulsive need to remember everything and take note of all the ways she’s still little. But mostly, happiness. 

There are times when I think, how can it be a year already? Weren’t we just taking our last drive as a twosome to the hospital to meet this baby? Then on other days it feels like she’s always, always been a part of our lives, and how can it possibly be only one year? It’s definitely bittersweet. I’m purposely making a point to not describe it as “sad.” Being present in the life of my growing, happy, healthy child is nothing to be sad about. (Thank you Kelle Hampton at Enjoying the Small Things blog for this post that opened my eyes to seeing my baby’s growth in a whole new, contended kind of light.)

I still wake up surprised that this is my gloriously messy life. Constant exhaustion from the job that never ends. The job that I never, ever want to end because there’s a perpetual ray of bright joy pushing through the dark clouds that can easily creep into motherhood.



Becoming a parent is a lot like getting married. Anticipation, nerves, excitement, and ignorant bliss prelude the big day. Even when people tell you of the highs and lows you’re about to experience – you can’t know until you’re all in. I was UTTERLY unaware of how utterly UNPREPARED I was for motherhood. For this challenge – it has stretched me in every way possible. For this love – it’s so extravagant. For this girl – oh, this girl. Every bit of this past year has exceeded my expectations and I’m grateful I’ve been called to motherhood. What a gift.

kissing her monkey. I die.

She refuses to lay down for these pictures anymore. So….this is what I’ve got.

STATS
Nicknames: Wildflower girl. Ave. Avie. Baby girl. Bird.
Eye Color: Still blue as can be!
Hair: blonde….getting in her eyes in the front. Don’t make me trim it.
Who does she look like? Me, from what people say.
Weight/Height: 20 lbs / height- will update after her Ped visit this week
Clothing: some 12 months still fit, but mostly 18 months (!)
Diapers: size 4
Favorite toys: Activity Table, big Legos, a barn that has a door she likes to open and close and stuff other toys inside of.
Crib or Parents’ Room: crib
Food/Routine: Up by 7am. 
Eats solids 3x/day. A bottle (transitioning completely to whole milk now) 5x/day. (I still nurse in the am and pm, but will be cutting that out soon as well.)
Bath at 7:30pm. In bed by 8:30pm.
Nighttime sleep: sleeping good through the night but waking up early (6ish)
Teething?: not currently
New Words
“thank you” (sounds like “daaadoo”)
“gone” (says this one alllll the time. after finishing every bite. after throwing each toy into the floor)
“uh oh” 
“down”
Loving lately: always so obsessed with our dogs!
Hating lately: being confined in any way. Girlfriend wants to explore.
Walking? Not yet – soooo close though!
Milestones & New Discoveries:
standing by herself
first tastes of cake and sugar!
feeding herself (some)
drinking whole milk
first aquarium experience
can sign “bath”



Here’s one thing I need to know, though. CAN I STILL CALL HER A BABY? I mean, I know she’ll always be my baby, but I need to know when it’s no longer socially and developmentally acceptable to call her a baby. She can stand up on her own and is half as long as me when I hold her. But she’s still a baby for now…..right? Just say yes.


And here’s a recap of her first year in monthly pictures! 


To my little wildflower girl, I love you more than anything. I kinda wish there was a word bigger than love that I could give you, but it’ll have to do. 


{I had to revisit her birth story, probably something I’ll do every year in some capacity. If you’d like to read it, click
here.}

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