Months ago I decided that my daughter turning one would be the single most painful experience of my entire life. Ever. The end, no questions. I anticipated crying throughout the day, grieving the cruel and fast passage of time that robbed me of more moments with my baby. I cursed my career for taking me out of the house, and myself for being so loyal to my resume. In the weeks leading up to her birthday I wept easily, but was at least able to laugh at myself — occasionally.
Time is a funny thing, and babies are even funnier, so by the time her birthday arrived, my spirits had lifted. My toddler will always be my baby, the same as she will be as an adult. Each will have special adventures and adding new bonds to our relationship, and I look forward to embracing every moment.
We celebrated our daughter, our first year as parents, and life as family of three with balloons, nerdtastic gifts, a trip to the zoo, and party a few days later. I was too busy laughing and smiling to cry the first tear.