FOX: Here are a few memories about your first birthday:
You woke up in your usual way. You sat up in bed, yawned and smiled at me (it's usually that or you lovingly pummel me on the head until I wake up). I rolled over and glanced at the clock, 5:43am. 5:43am, the exact time you were born a year ago today. In all likelihood a coincidence, but a poignant coincidence nonetheless. The day rolled on like any other, we ate breakfast and got dressed. Then, when you went down for your morning nap, your sister and I squirreled away to the kitchen to make you a cake. Lamb insisted on doing everything herself, even cracking the eggs (hence, the crunchy texture). Fortunately, it was a packet mix so she couldn't go too wrong. When it came time to ice the cake we debated what colour to make it. Lamb, unsurprisingly, said pink, Daddy said yellow. I made it aqua. When you woke up we plonked you in your highchair, lit the candle and sung happy birthday. Your sister obligingly blew out the candle for you. What we didn't know at the time was that it was one of those joke candles that re-lights itself every time you blow it out. You thought this was the most fantastic thing you had ever seen. Every time it was blown out then came back to life you squealed and clapped your hands enthusiastically. After we stuffed ourselves with cake, your sister went off to Nanny's house and your daddy went to work. We had a quite afternoon together, just the two of us, playing games and snuggling. You were so tired by the end of the day that you went off to sleep without a hassle, not a single complaint, and with your arms above your head, the same way you used to sleep when you were a tiny baby.
The day before my thirtieth birthday a package arrived on my doorstep. I literally jumped up and down and squealed like a little girl. It was a box of Fujifilm FP-100c (instant film). A welcom-to-a-new-decade present I had ordered for myself. I thought it might soften the blow a bit. These are a few of my favourites, little snippets from our day. I love the unpredictable nature of the film, the way your never really know what you're going to get. I love the little 'mistakes' where the emulsion doesn't spread evenly. I love the colours and the softness. Another box is currently on it's way to my doorstep. I'm officially addicted.
Continue the 10-on-10 circle, next up is the lovely Breanna Peterson
This time last year I was lying in a hospital bed, nine days overdue and sick and tired of being pregnant. I was scheduled to be induced the next day. But someone had other plans. I had no idea what was coming to me in the early hours of the following morning. At about 5am I was wheeled to the delivery suit at 3cms dilated, having been in labor for just over an hour. 20 minutes (and several fainting episodes) later a screaming baby was plonked on my chest. I cannot believe that same tiny baby boy will be turning one tomorrow.
FOX: On Wednesday you will be one, little man. I feel quite differently about your first birthday than I did with your sister's. Back then I was filled with excitement, I was busy planing a party and patting myself on the back for getting through the first year. After all, everyone always told me the first year would be the hardest (cough, cough). But that was almost four years ago and with hindsight I can now appreciate how fleeting and precious that time was. We will not be throwing an extravagant party, my excitement for planning social gatherings involving children and copious amounts of sugar has dwindled somewhat. It will be a small, intimate affair with the people who matter most. You are not going to remember this day, but I will. In fact, you will not remember a single day from this past year but I will remember it all. This first year is mine to keep. And I'm sorry to see it go.
I tried so hard to limit myself to one portrait per child this week. I couldn't do it. So instead I told myself I would pick my two favourites then create a separate post for alllllll the others. I'm always so embarrassed when I browse through the other links from Jodi's blog and see all the sensible, two or three photo posts, only to return to my blog's weekly photo thesis. I swear I do have a social life*
*If you count boring/terrifying the sales assistant at the local supermarket with what diseases my children have this week and what their poos look like a social life.
LAMB: I love our mummy daughter dates, they are so rare and precious. Today we went to the movies. We purchased our tickets then headed to the supermarket to get some treats. I told you that you could only pick out one treat but you could have whatever you wanted. You thought about it intently for a moment, it was a big decision, perhaps the biggest you have ever made. "I know!" you exclaimed excitedly, "Chocolate milkies!" then you paused and thought about it for a second more, "No. Maybe strawberry milkies". I ended up choosing a dark mint chocolate Easter egg but when I saw it sitting next to your delicious looking strawberry milk in the shopping bag I had instant buyers remorse. When then headed back over to the movie theater, your clammy little hand in mine, you looked up at me and said "I so excited, mummy" with a sincerity and enthusiasm that made my heart melt. I placed my handbag next to you on your theater seat to prevent you from being swallowed by it, your little bum lacking the necessary weight to keep the seat down. Not long after the movie started you turned to me and said "This a little bit scary, mummy" then you hopped off your seat and into my lap. I didn't mind in the least, I relished the opportunity to cuddle and reassure you, my big almost-four year old.