Today marks three years since my everything was delivered to me in the form of a 7 pound, 14 ounce little spitfire.
I say my everything because that’s what she is. All the other things that used to feel so important suddenly became trivial. Everything else took a backseat. I took a back seat. Life stood still in that moment as I gazed at my beautiful first born child, and I changed.
I was a mother.
Today we celebrate my Twee Destroyer’s third birthday. She has given us so much, just by being a normal tiny person.
She makes life fun.
She makes life better.
She has a way of endearing herself to everyone she meets with innocent honesty and little girl affection. And those giant, round, Cindy Lou Who eyes.
And in this year where many former colleagues and acquaintances have suffered life shattering losses, I am grateful.
Grateful that I have got to hold her for every day in these past three years. Grateful that I get to complain about temper tantrums and peed pants and no sleep.
I am grateful that three years ago today, I was sent the most perfect little cherub.
So today, we will shower her with presents and balloons and parties and whatever she wants to do. Because I can never repay her for all the things she’s done to me and for me. I could try, but it will never be enough.
Bitches, I love the fuck out of that little girl. (Pardon the True Blood reference). but I really have no better way to say it. I love her so, so, much it almost hurts sometimes.
Three years with my everything. Happy Birthday.