How do you measure a year?
(Betcha have that song in your head now, don’t you?!)
Every time I think of the year mark of anything, I always think of that song. And I break it down to minutes, hours, just like the song. And I’ve been doing that over the past week–breaking down the last 12 months into little tiny segments.
Little snippets of time. Wren sleeping on Josh’s chest. Bathtime. Holidays. Storytimes. Wren with her doggies. Wren with her cousins, her auntie, her uncles, her grandparents. Wren crying, Wren nursing, Wren growing and changing before our eyes. First smiles, first teeth, first time painting her toenails. Her tube surgery, lots of colds, a bump or bruise here and there. Cute shoes, lots of clothes, all our trips to Target.
I look back at the last year and I literally lose my breath, both from the pure amazement that is this little miracle and also from the shock at the speed of life. I want to stop it, to bottle it up, to take in every single precious moment. I want to remember everything about her and this magical age.
Brand new, snuggling with Mom:At her 1st Birthday Party, smothering Mommy with wet, slobbery kisses: Our little beauty: