Happy 1st Birthday, Madi!

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. Being pregnant with you was no picnic. But that seems like a lifetime ago. Towards the end I remember telling your dad, "I'm not sure if I can do this again." But sweetheart, the second I saw you every ache, pain, naseous day and restless night faded away. I'd do it all again. And I will, God willing. That's the miracle of motherhood.

You made up for a rough pregnancy by being the easiest baby that God ever created. You hardly ever cried. And when you did we usually just had to feed you. You were easy to nurse and weaned yourself about three weeks ago. Thanks for that. Most of the time you were content to just lay or sit and be entertained by the circus that is our home. You smiled early and haven't stopped since. You smile at strangers and make their day. You smile at me and remind me why we sacrifice so I can spend my days with you. You smile at your dad when he gets home and make him forget all the stress of his day. You love to play and laugh. Being tickled and chased make you cackle uncontrollably. And I'm pretty sure that deep belly laugh of yours could solve most of the world's problems.

From birth you've been "healthy" as your Papaw calls you. Always in the upper 90th percentile or off the chart. It's sometimes a challenge to keep your belly full. And you grow out of clothes faster than I can get the tubs down from the attic. Everybody loves a chubby baby and you are no exception. This has earned you a variety of affectionate nicknames: King Kong, Big Hoss, Tub-a-Lub, Fatty Madi, Chubbers and Thunder Thighs. Now that you're a year old your dad says we have to stop calling you these hilarious names so they don't stick. He's probably right.

You are only a year old, but already you are loved by many. You have a long list of aunts, uncles, honorary aunt and uncles, cousins, grandparents and friends that would spoil you rotten if we let them. You have the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes. People are always commenting on how pretty your eyes are. I believe those baby blues of yours may have the boys lining up at the door in about 15 years. Don't worry. The gun owners on the above mentioned list (and there are a lot of them) will surely scare them away and embarass you immensely.

It makes me so sad that you're technically not a baby anymore. I wish I could make the days go slower, but I can't. So I'll just try to cherish these days with you. Even though all you do these days is rip up my check book, sneak up the stairs 56 times a day, empty my cabinets and chew on electrical cords. You are one of our greatest blessings. And fill our lives with so much joy. Just like your name. Happy Birthday, Madelyn Joy.

Love,
Mommy (and Daddy)

    



ripping up a catalog. a borrowed catalog.