A year ago, I was in the hospital. At 7:11 pm, after a day of laboring, Josey ended up being delivered by c-section.
She was 9 pounds, 2 ounces, and 22 inches of pure joy. I loved every inch of her, and I could have burst with pride.
Now that she’s a year old, I can say that even on her birthday, she is still the gift that WE have received. God blessed us beyond measure when he placed her into our family.
Josey, you are so bright- in both your intelligent mind and your sunny disposition. You shine with happiness.
I love the way you dance every time you hear music. I love the way you toddle around and how tough you are- laughing when you fall.
I secretly (not so secretly now that I’m blogging it) love the way that I can’t get through one shopping trip anywhere (the grocery store, the mall, ANYWHERE), without being stopped at least once (but usually no less than 5-10 times) because someone wants to talk to you or about you. They love your smile, your beauty, and your charm. And I’m so proud to show you off.
I get a kick out of the way that little boys just a little older than you will literally leave their mamas and follow our cart through stores trying to catch your eye and hold your hand. I’ll probably find that less funny when you’re older.
I don’t even care that the internet probably has more pictures of you than of everyone else combined. My friends good-naturedly tease me about being your paparazzi because I have bombarded every social network with photos of you since the day I brought you home.
You’re one of the only people I would jump into a pool of sharks to rescue. When you get older, you’ll appreciate how much that means. 😉
You are so silly sometimes. I love the way you growl and then laugh at yourself.
You love other kids, and I adore that. You want so much to play with them and wave and smile so vigorously when you see other kids- big or small. You are still learning how to be gentle, but your heart is in the right place!
You like to test boundaries. Sweet as you are, you still go right to where you’re not supposed to be and look back at me. One day, you’ll understand why you get in trouble for moving the baby gates or for playing with electrical sockets. But for now, I’ll keep correcting you.
You love dogs, green bean casserole, and shopping. You love shoes and music and cake. You love going fast and talking and singing. You are definitely my child.
Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re real. And that I get to be your mom. I’ve never wanted to be good at something so much in my life.
I love you, Josey-Jo! Happy birthday!