The Second Year
It was a year of joy.
It was a year of movement. Of walking. Of flipping. And, of course, of jumping.
It was a year of language. Of learning words. Exploring sounds.
It was a year of questioning. Of whys and hows.
It was a year of bravery. Of trying new things.
It was a year of boundaries. Setting them and breaking them.
It was a year of emotions. Of bubbling tears and belly laughter.
It was a year of formation. Of friendships. Of memories.
It was a second year.
My beautiful, fierce and funny little girl, may you always love life as much as you do today. May learning be just as thrilling and defeat as short lived. May you tackle challenges as head on as you currently dive off your trampoline and may you bounce back just as quickly. While I hope stinky feet don't amuse you as much as they do now, I wish for you to continue to find humor in things big and small.
I look back fondly over your second year of life, a year I could barely keep up with you. When you were once babbles and mummurs, you are now shouts and sentences. When you were once stumbling and reaching, you are now bounding and leaping. You have style and preferences.
My business, which often seems so all consuming, exhausting, small, and yet still expensive, is barely in its first year. When I think back to the difference between you at one and now at 2, it's encouraging and enlightening. It's a reminder of the patience I need and the promise I have.
So thank you, Maisie Girl, for sharing your joy, your unintentional reassurance, your levity and light. For challenging me to be better, to work harder and to bounce back quicker. As I promise to tell you every year for as long as I'm able, I'm yours forever.