Looking at these photographs now I already know I'll ugly cry when I see them years from now. Age one is mostly fun. Every day has it's own ups and downs. But one quickly turns into two, then three, then thirteen, so I'll take in every moment of one while I'm here.
At one she is loving kitties, chips, saying hi, reading books, and petting her chickens. She dances to the same Sesame Street song every day. She picks up sticks outside and makes tiny shooting sounds with them like her big brother. She gets all dramatic when you rinse her hair or when she sees a bug or when you're eating a chip and she should get one (or ten) too. She squeals when she sees babies "BEBEEE," and plays mommy to her (thankfully) fake baby at home. She likes to take all the underwear out of my drawer and wear as many as she can around her neck like jewels. When she's feeling generous she'll give out a few kisses and a hugs and giggle about how excited we get over them. She has the most expressions of any child I've ever seen. We're all on the edge of our seats to hear the thoughts behind her expressions.
But my all-time favorite part of one is just before sleep when she let's me cradle her body in my arms while she drinks her bottle. I take in her smell, her sighs, her little fingers on my face, and heavy eyes almost shut. It's the one moment of the day when there's nothing but stillness and quiet between us, but so much felt and mutually understood. Cheek to cheek she finishes her milk and slips into milky dream land. And I say to myself, I'll just steal one more kiss, one more smell of her hair, one more time to put my cheek on her cheek, and then I'll lay her down. Because soon she'll be two, then she'll be three, then she'll be thirteen and I'll take in every piece of this moment while it's here.