Happy Birthday, Peanut

I can't believe Evie is one year old -- her actual birthday was yesterday. I was thinking about what I was doing last year at this time. Likely lying in the bed in the hospital, cuddling my sweet little newborn, touching her tiny feet and hands, wandering around the floor with Ken trying to find bows to stick on her little head. Or introducing her to her big brother, who despite wanting nothing to do with her at the time, still comments every time we drive by the hospital that "That's where Evelyn was born." And he still brings up little bits of memories -- riding the elevator with Grandpa, watching movies on "the big TV." And how he's finally grown into the role of big brother, "helping out" by watching her and making her laugh. I remember the first few moments I met her, still lying on the operating bed as they were finishing up the C section, seeing her perfect little eyes already so wide open and chunky little cheeks.

She has been such a blessing to our little family. She has the sweetest personality of any baby I've ever met. Never happier than when she's snuggled up in someone's arms and I can't tell you how much I needed those baby snuggles after long days at work when I felt especially guilty that I hadn't been home more to see her. Even when she's crabby, somehow after a few minutes of baby chatter and maybe a song or two, all is forgiven and it's nothing but sugar and smiles. One of my favorite moments of the day is when I find her in bed, just woken up from a nap and extra happy, sitting up talking at her toys, squealing with delight when I walk in the room. Happy Birthday, peanut.