Oy vey, Tessie.
This is a hard one. In less than four hours, you will turn one. Technically you won’t be an infant any more. Those days will probably be behind us forever. And we will be entering into a new stage as a family.
Magoo has the hard job of entering us into each new stage. That’s a lot of pressure. You have the hard job of closing us out of stages. I presume that is a hard job as well.
I remember when I found out I was pregnant with you. I didn’t know what life would be like with four kids. Our house felt so full. What would another little person be like.
I couldn’t dream you up. I couldn’t envision who you would be.
And I think that’s a good thing. Because never ever could I have dreamt up you.
You are my sweetheart. The itty bitty little mascot trailing along at the end of a long line of sisters.
You are sweet. Oh so very sweet. And you are patient. And you are calm. And you smile nearly any time anyone looks at you.
In a way I’m a little bit proud of that. The last year has been a bit tumultuous. But from where I stand, it seems as if you are oblivious to that. As you should be.
I want to sit here and gush. I want to tell you how nearly every day you take my breath away. I want to tell you how very often your gentle little soul brings tears to my eyes. I want to tell you how you were and are my little rosebud after the long winter.
But my heart is so fragile right now.
So instead I will just say this.
I love you, Tessie. I’m so proud of you. And my life is better because I know you.
(That was the last picture I took of you as a 12 month old. It’s a perfect depiction of you.)