Two years ago, my daughter was making her way into the world. Born 10 days late, it was clear before she even arrived that she was going to be doing life her way.
We had a rough start, Quinn and me. 14 weeks of PURPLE crying didn’t to much to endear me to parenthood, though I obviously loved her. With time and a really great swaddle blanket, things got better. And then, all of a sudden, my newborn was an infant, my infant was a crawler, my crawler turned into a toddler, and now I’ve got a two year old. Some days, it really feels like it happened that fast!
Quinn continues to be a independent-minded girl. She likes things her way, right away. We still struggle with sleep, eating anything classed as a vegetable, listening to directions, and sharing. But these are minor things, really, compared to all the wonderful things she has brought to our lives.
At this moment in time, Quinn loves to give and get kisses. She says “I love you, Mommy/Daddy” often (she also says “I love cake.”).
She loves to dance and twirl and sing. She does a rousing rendition of Wheels on the Bus and Old MacDonald.
She loves her grandparents and lights up with my dad enters the room, which warms my heart.
She talks up a blue streak and is at the phase in life where she is constantly amazing us with new words.
She pronounces vacuum “way-cume” and calls everything from the actual vacuum to the lawn mower this.
She has the greatest smile. And the greatest smirk.
She loves to slide and swing.
She is fearless (this is sometimes terrifying, but also amazing).
She loves cats and dogs and seems enchanted by nature in general.
She loves her Aunt Meghan just as much as I do. Which is a whole bunch.
I could go on, but then I would be writing for probably the rest of the night. Suffice it to say, she brings much more joy than angst (most days.).
One thing they don’t tell you about having a child: It is one of the most bittersweet things you will ever do. Because inherent to childhood is the fact that they will grow out of it; that childhood is a brief blur compared to adulthood. It warms and breaks my heart to think that my sweet, snuggly girl will someday leave my house and have her own grown up life. That she might hate me someday when she is a teenager, even if she doesn’t really. That someday, the experience of her scent as she is cuddled up on my chest with be just a memory, that she will be too big to fit in my arms and rest her head under my chin.
But that day is still a long way away and I intend to enjoy the hell out of every moment with her until then, and beyond.
Happy Birthday, Quinn.