Maybe instead, I should call it Happy 'I've Kept Most of My Sanity for a Year' Day. I've mentioned before, Amelia had colic in her early days and all in all was pretty high needs for the first four to six months. For the first two months, I held her constantly because she would cry if put down. I held her as I put dishes away, as I slept, as I made our frozen meals for dinner. I cried during cooking shows because it felt like I was never going to enjoy creative time in the kitchen again. During weeks two through six of her life, she would have evening/early morning screaming fits that would last for two to three hours. I would circle the dining room table, singing, shushing, bouncing, rocking, until finally I would burst into tears too and my husband would wake from his slumber before heading off to work, take her from me and order "GO TO BED". I would nod miserably, feeling like a failure as a mother and wondering if this was her disposition now, what would it be like as a toddler?
I must be doing something right because as Amelia nears toddlerhood, this is generally our girl:
A happy, silly little girl who adores her mama and who is too busy to sleep well but so worth waking up throughout the night for. She loves her books and Sesame Street, as well as her dog and kitty, and can say 'hi', 'dog', 'kitty', 'book', 'Daddy', and 'abcd'. A squealing, giggling little bundle of energy that will scream as you walk towards her in hopes that you will chase her down and tickle her.
And so, in summary, I've not only managed to keep her alive during the past year, but also managed to raise a fairly happy, very healthy little girl. This indeed is something to celebrate.
Happy birthday, Amelia May. Mommy loves you.