It has been a year since you were born. A year of night time wakings, giggles, soft tiny fingers holding on to my not so soft lined hands. It has been a year of waking up in the morning listening for your singing in the crib, of a brother and sister jumping up and down when I carry you in to the room, anxious to be the first to hold you. A year of your daddy wrestling and bouncing you and giving you whisker kisses. A whole year of kisses and stroking your soft round head, praying for the day your stick straight hair would finally lay down and then being sad when it did. Soon you will have real words to replace the constant "decka, decka, decka" sound you make and you wobbling legs will start to run across the yard with strength and stability. It will all go too fast. But Happy Birthday Punkin. It was a great year. (photo courtesey of Jodi Cravens Photography)
