Peaches & Honey: Happy Birthday, Vivien Louise!

My Sweet Vivi Lou,

This time one year ago--after the longest, most miserable pregnancy in the history of all mankind--your daddy and I welcomed you into this world. It was a sunny Monday morning, and you made the world even brighter with your sweet little face. You let us know immediately that you were easy-going, and that has continued to be true for this first year of your life.

You have a big, beautiful, gap-toothed grin, and you draw it out every chance you get. You are sweet, perpetually happy (unless your brother indulges in extreme assholery), and you are easily contented. I love hearing you chatting with your babies in the morning before I come collect you from your crib, and I love seeing your huge baby browns light up every morning when I walk in your room.

You know those big brown eyes you have? I have the same ones. I used to wish for blue eyes or green, or really any color except brown. But as I have grown up, I have come to love them so much. And that is because they are not only my eyes, but they're also my mama's eyes, and they're also her mama's eyes. And, if I had to guess, they were probably her mama's eyes before that. So please don't ever wish for anything more than what you have, because those eyes belong to generations of tough, brown-eyed ladies. And I can tell that you are one more tough, brown eyed little lady.

I like to call this your "Grumpy Cat"

You are already so tough. Your resilience and affability impress me every day. Before I ever met you, I prayed that you would be tough enough to handle your wild big brother. I wasn't disappointed. You almost always let his shenanigans roll off your back, which is not an easy thing to do. I admire your energy, your girlish charm, and your bonhomie.

Straight-up bonhomie.

I can already tell that you are growing up so much; you are almost a toddler, which breaks my heart a little bit because you are my last baby. Your delicious rolls are beginning to stretch out now that you are growing taller and walking. You are becoming more independent. Even your itty-bitty, teensy-weensy feet--which have been the subject of many chuckles over this last year--are growing. In fact, you now wear a big ol' size 2 shoe! (For comparison's sake, Bobby wore a size 4 shoe on his first birthday, so...yours' are still pretty small, my dearie). You wear 12-18/18-24 month clothing, depending on the brand, but I have a gut feeling that you are really about to slim down into a streamlined little tot. This is not due to your lack of eating.

You love eating; it's one of your favorite things to do. You particularly love bread, cheese, and cake (welcome to the girl's club). You and I sat on the kitchen floor the other day watching television while we split half a wheel of Brie, and I thought, "this is what having a daughter is all about."

You're one of my very best little friends. It makes me sad to know that I won't always be able to be your friend. I'm not going to make that mistake. My first job is to be your mama and to guide you, talk to you, listen to you, share my experiences with you and hope that you learn from them.

My main role is to teach you right from wrong. So you aren't always going to like me, and that's okay (even though I know it's going to tear me up inside a little bit when you hit the "I hate my mom" phase). Because I know that you will come back to me, and that one day you will be calling me over to talk about the stupid thing your husband did that day or how crazy your little kids are driving you. And I will hug you and tell you it's going to be okay, because I was there once, and my mama was there before me. That's what mamas do.

I know all of this is eons into the future, and I'm not going to psych myself out about it right now, but it has been on my mind lately--how you're growing and changing and becoming more independent. Right now I am going to savor this sweet little moment in time, sitting on the kitchen floor and eating Brie with you. But I want you to know that I will always be here to sit on the kitchen floor and eat Brie with you, no matter the age or the season. Because you're my girl.

You have no idea how much you are my girl.

You're also your daddy's girl, you know. I could only picture him as a dad to a boy before you came along, so honestly, I wasn't sure how he would be with a girl. I had no doubt he would be great, but he's really more of a guy's-guy. I knew, however, the second he held you that he was smitten. He took you over to the window of the delivery room on that bright, sunny Monday morning, and introduced you to the world. And you smiled. Ever since then, he has been head-over-heels for you. You love him back lots. You love his funny faces and his peek-a-boo games, and you thoroughly enjoy the nightly bath that he gives you and Bob.

Ah, Bob. He is simultaneously your best friend and mortal enemy. Despite his reluctance to share and your insistence on hair pulling, you two really do love each other. He has been your greatest teacher. You have learned how to walk and how to play because you have a big brother showing you the ropes. When you were a wee newborn, he wasn't sure what you were; I think he may have thought you were a loud pet. He found you amusing; he got a kick out of rocking you in your swing and terrorizing your pacifiers. But you two have grown together a lot over this year, and you two love each other a lot. Although his main thrill in life is giving you all the crappy pieces of Lucky Charms, you'd be lost without each other. One of my favorite things in the world is to see him lean over and kiss you on the head.

Okay, so I don't have any pictures of that, per se.

Vivi Lou, you are so sweet and charming and happy. I enjoy you all throughout the day because you are so rarely disagreeable, but one my favorite times to spend with you is at bed time. You are all clean from your bath, and we go sit in your bedroom rocker and read a book. Then we say our prayers. And then we rock in the dark as we listen to "Visions of Johanna" and you drift off to sleep. I often drift off to sleep right along with you, and then I awake hours later--the time unbeknownst to me--with the record player still spinning round and round, and I just look at you sleeping peacefully. You sleep so peacefully and beautifully (a quality you most certainly did not inherit from your mother).

Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams

That is my second favorite time of day with you. My very favorite time of day with you is the morning, as I mentioned before. Walking in and seeing your huge grin and the happiness that you ooze..that's my favorite. It's the one time of day I can be guaranteed to make someone smile. And, in return, I can't help but smile back at you.

You have a way of making everyone who sees you smile, and I beg you to not ever lose that.