Dear sweet girl,

I remember before you born, I finally understood the phrase "I can't wait to meet my baby." You grew inside of me for 9 months, and yet we'd never met. I knew you were my daughter, but I'd never seen your face, heard you cry, seen your smile, or had any idea what you'd be like.

And then you arrived. When you finally came out and started crying, your daddy and I looked at each other and laugh/cried. I remember looking at you as the nurses laid you on my chest, so overwhelmed by how darling and beautiful you were. You were here and you were ours. Every parent thinks their baby is beautiful but your daddy and I were especially obsessed with you. Your juicy cheeks, almond shaped eyes and surprisingly dark hair. Whenever people looked at my blonde hair and then at yours and said to me, "Her hair is SO dark," I usually responded honestly and said something like, "You can fake it (by dyeing your hair) until you have a baby." Your hair color is very similar to my natural color, but I think I'll be blonde indefinitely (as long as its in the budget)!

I'll be honest, baby girl. I loved you A LOT (and still do) but those first couple months of sleep deprivation were HARD. I loved snuggling you, but I was especially happy when you let us sleep a few hours at a time. I never knew five hours of sleep could feel so amazing. After a couple months when you started sleeping eight hours each night, we were like a new family with new-found happiness and energy. So thank you for becoming such a good sleeper. I am more sane, as your mother, because of it.

I'll be honest again, your dad and I have kind of been wingin' it this whole year. You're our parenting guinea pig, kid. And I hate to break it to you, you kind of always will be. Thankfully we had lots of good advice, and I probably Googled things way too much in the first couple months of your life. Thanks for not caring, and not knowing. Thank you for loving us and making us feel like rockstar parents just by adoring us so much. There was this one time that you accidentally fell out of a wagon onto your head when you were 7 months old, and I felt like an awful mom, but only one person saw it happen and I bet you don't remember it. Phew!

Within the first week you were home, you gave us your first smile. I don't know when other babies usually smile, but you could hardly go more than a few days from the moment you were born without smiling. Looking back, I know now that that told us something insightful about who you are. You have the the smiley-est (that's not even a word), most joyful babe. You smile at strangers and wave at everybody everywhere we go. People are always stopping to interact with you because, as your Mimi says, you are SO GENEROUS with your smiles. You're a special kid, you have been this whole first year and I know you will be for the rest of your life. I read somewhere that your name means, "light," and I can think of fewer things that have been more true about you thus far. You have been a LIGHT to your daddy and I and everyone else you've met.

I hate when you fall down and smack your face or head on something, but then I secretly kind of love it. . . not because you're hurt but because I know that I'll just get to hold you and cuddle you for a long time as you calm down. You don't always slow down much. You notice everything, you explore everything.

You're funny and silly, and we love watching you learn new things. I'm excited to keep watching you grow, excited for you to learn to talk and for all the conversations we'll have throughout your whole life. I'm not excited for when you figure out that you can tell me "no" and disobey me and make my heart really sad. Right now we're in kind of a sweet spot, I think. You're old enough to walk and interact and think I'm funny and do funny things yourself, but you're not quite old enough to do things on purpose that I don't want you to do, thank goodness. So I'll cherish this season with you, my sweet one-year-old baby.

People told me the first year is crazy. I really had no idea how true that would be. You began as this two-week-early, seven pound, twelve ounce little peanut who mostly just ate and slept and sometimes cried. And now you're a walking, squeaking, exploring, hilarious little girl who has stolen our hearts entirely. We can't imagine our lives without you, baby girl. Thank you for an amazing first year of mommy-hood. We all survived. Here's to many more.

I'll love you forever,

Your mommy