Vivienne at Twelve Months (One Year!)

Dear Vivienne,

I hope you don’t mind that I’m a few days late in writing this letter. You see, we were on vacation and out of town on your birthday. It was low key, it was special, and it was fun just to be with you. You smiled a lot, played a lot, slept a lot (recovering from a week at the beach, I think!), and ate a lot. A good day by many measures.

So yes, the beach. We took our first “real” vacation as a family of four during the week leading up to your birthday. We traveled to the Outer Banks in North Carolina to spend a week at the beach with friends and their children. It was baby’s first trip to the beach, and you were so good—content to hang out at the house, be by the pool, or (your favorite) sit in the sand and the surf. You were completely perplexed by it at first, and definitely cried a little bit the first time I dipped your toes into the ocean. But by the end of the week, we could plop you in the sand or surf and you were happy to sit there for a good solid hour, just pinching the sand between your fingers and toes.

You’ve changed so much this month. Your two top front teeth came in, completely altering your smile. Speaking of which, you do a hilarious “cheese face” now—ALL THE TIME—where you scrunch up your whole face and show off all of your teeth in a big, crazy grin. I don’t know how you learned or why you like it so much, but it’s adorable and we’ll eat it up while you still do it.

Food? You love it. All of it. Leading into our vacation, you started eating a greater variety of things, and then suddenly, when we were at the beach, you were ravenous. You literally ate anything we put in front of you and then yelled at us for more. Pasta. Hamburger. Tacos. Chicken. Peppers. Tomatoes. Pizza. Shrimp. Mahi mahi. Rice pilaf. Cheese. Any kind of fruit there is. You were usually one of the first to be put at the table, and somehow always the last to be removed. So.much.eating. Oh, and on your birthday? You LOVED your cake. LOVED. We gave you a small slice and you smashed it, alright. And then you shoveled it in and begged for more.

Two thumbs up for the two of us, as we also made it all the way to a year with breastfeeding. I no longer pump, so you just nurse in the morning and at night. I have a frozen milk stash that will probably last for several more weeks to make you bottles and sippy cups for daycare. But while we were at the beach, it was an interesting predicament. I tried to nurse you during the day when it seemed you wanted/needed to, but because my body is no longer accustomed to needing milk during the day, it was tough. I actually gave you some whole cow’s milk in a sippy cup and although you made funny faces sometimes, you drank it down when you were thirsty. Anyway, I’m so glad to have had the nursing relationship and experience with you, just as I did with your sister. It’s still special to me so I’m not quite ready to give it up completely—and I don’t think you are, either. In the mornings when you’re starving, and in the evenings when you’re tired, you really WANT to nurse and you make that known.

You’re pulling to a stand on everything. You’ve also started taking steps with the support of walker toys—SCARY. You are all over the place and into everything. You love playing with my keys, and rifling through my purse. You try to play with shoes that we leave by the door, so we have to be good and put them in the closet now! You like toys or activities with lots of pieces that you can take out and/or put back in. You love dolls, which is adorable; you hold them in your lap and they are not much smaller than you are. You’re on the move constantly, so much so that we had to keep you busy with puffs in order to even get your last set of monthly photos!

Your latest is that you are really starting to be verbal. You’re still not saying any “real” words, but you are making consonant sounds. Your favorite right now is GAH. GAH GAH GAH GAH GAH! You shout at us with conviction. You’re trying to tell us something, we assume, but we don’t know what yet. You have also started to make N and M sounds the last few days, so you have me really excited about the prospect of hearing “Mama” soon. You clap your hands, and sometimes we’re pretty sure you’re doing it to tell us “more” (the sign language is similar).

I think you are starting to give kisses. You’ve answered my requests for them the last few days, putting your little mouth on mine. Before that, you would do “foreheads”—if we leaned our heads close to yours, you’d lower your head and lean in to touch foreheads with us. You were gentle about it, and it was clearly a sign of affection. Your grandparents certainly loved it. :)

You’re smart. Sassy. Stubborn. Goofy. Smiley. FUNNY! Determined. Flexible, but also demanding. Completely adorable (I mean, seriously). You don’t have a ton of nicknames, because Viv, Vivi, and Vivienne already give us a lot of options. But I do call you “Mush” and “Baby” sometimes. Oh, and sometimes? Vivi May.

At bedtime, you’ve been a dream about letting me snuggle you lately. Usually not for long, but it’s enough time to make my heart full. You rest your head against my chest and I’ll sing a couple of songs to you—usually Twinkle Twinkle and Jesus Loves Me. Thank you so much for giving me those moments. You’ll never know how much I cherish them.

When Nora turned 1, I distinctly remember rocking her the night before her birthday, sobbing over her. I was a huge mess of emotions—both happy and sad—and it all spilled out through my tears. I’m going to be honest: I didn’t cry for your birthday. But you know what? It’s not because I love you any less. It’s not because I wasn’t emotional. It’s because I have been through this before, and now I know. I know that although it makes me wistful to watch you leave your babyhood behind, there is so much to look forward to. I know the joys that lie ahead. I know the blessing that is your life and how lucky we are to have it, and that there is really no reason to cry. So instead of giving you a crying, bumbling mess of a mother on your first birthday, you have the gift of an experienced mother who now has a greater perspective on this whole “my baby is growing up” thing.

Don’t get me wrong—it still makes me a little sad that you’re growing so fast. Particularly because I’m pretty certain you’re our last baby. But crying isn’t going to change anything, my love. Having the presence of mind and heart to live in the moment and be thankful for each day we have together? That’s how I’m trying to live my life now. Sure, I’m not perfect at it, but I’m trying. I’m still learning. So when I sat with you on your birthday and snuggled you before bed, all I could think about was how happy I am to have had the experience of your first year, and how much I am looking forward to the rest.

I pray that you will have a long and healthy future full of many joys and few sorrows. I will be with you to celebrate the happy times and help get you through the sad ones.

Thank you, sweet girl. Thank you for being my daughter, and for being distinctly you. I’m so privileged to be your mommy and thankful for being given the chance to do this again, this time with the wisdom I lacked the first time. Thank you for teaching me that love like this is possible for a second time. (The love really does multiply—your heart just doubles in size.)

Happy Birthday, Vivienne May. I love you more than you can imagine.

Love,
Mommy