Dear Harper,
Happy birthday! I can’t believe you’ve been in this world a whole year. I’ve been thinking for a while about what I wanted to tell you on your birthday. Really, I don’t know where to start. I guess, when you’re older, you can read back through my blog posts to see what you’ve been up to. You’re the reason I started this blog, by the way. I wanted to have a record of your daily life and I just can’t be trusted to write in your baby book. I also wanted you to have a record of what I was thinking and doing during this time (they don’t have blanks for that kind of stuff in the baby book). Hopefully, this blog will give you some insight into who I am. At the very least, it will give you something concrete to show your therapist – because you’ll probably need one after your dad and I totally screw you up. Don’t worry, you’ll screw your kids up too. It comes with the territory.
Anyway…Today, and every day for that matter, I want you to know how much I love you. You are perfect in every way. I remember in the first couple days after you were born, looking at you and thinking that there was no way that your dad and I could have ever made anything as wonderful as you. If you didn’t look so much like your dad, I would think that we came home from the hospital with the wrong kid because you are so much sweeter and good natured than either one of us. You make people genuinely happy just by looking at them. Old men in restaurants give you money because you smile at them. I hope that you always have such a friendly and trusting disposition. The world could use more people like you.
You’ve come a long way in the last 12 months. I am so excited to see what the future holds for you. I know that all parents think their kids are destined to do great things, but I really think it’s true in your case (no pressure or anything). You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you with all my heart. The 9 months of constant puking was totally worth it. Happy birthday, deeto.
Love you,
Mama (you know, the word you refuse to say)
Mama (you know, the word you refuse to say)
