Birthdays are bittersweet for me because they celebrate the joy of living in the midst of letting go.
The second year of life comes with a lot of hype. “Terrible” and filled with “nos”. It was that some of the time, but I really enjoyed you being two.
There’s lots to be said about kids growing quickly and long days, but short years. I don’t necessarily want to add to the clatter of it all; the guilt that rises because of something we can’t control. Life is such a slippery thing. You can never quite get the hang of it or ahold of it.
I don’t want to focus on what isn’t though. I want this note to say, more than anything else, that you’re one of the best things I’ve ever been lucky enough to celebrate and all the days since you got here have seemed more like a special occasion than anything else. Thanks for hanging around next to me and needing me. Thanks for all those hugs.
Happy third birthday, Sprout.
I love you always.