You woke up early this morning.
As if to say “it's my birthday and I can not wait one more second to start celebrating."
Meanwhile, I was just worried about getting some sleep before work.
I tried to get you back into bed, but you had other plans.
There was this moment though, where you were almost asleep. You reached up and grabbed my thumb.
You just held it, for as long as I would let you.
I couldn't help but think of that first day in the hospital, you were so small. So helpless.
We got to spend the first hour of your life together, just Grace and daddy. You had this look on your face like "where did all this stuff come from?"
Little did I know a year later you'd be tearing up a storm in our apartment.
Crawling, climbing, emptying shelves, throwing stuff, throwing up, demanding anything in the house that had a screen.
Of course there's also the laughing and the playing, the talking and the copying. We have so much fun in our little family.
But that first day, you just took it all in. It must have been terrifying for you. I know it was for us.
You couldn't laugh then. You couldn't crawl, or talk, or copy. You know what you could do? Reach out with that tiny hand of yours, and grab my thumb.
This morning was a reminder, even though you're a year old, and have changed so much, you will always be my baby girl.
Love Dad.
