Up until now I’ve been able to look back over a year and sum it up with a few headlines highlighting the joy and tragedy the previous twelve months have held. Recent years have contained huge celebrations in the marriages of loved ones, even more as friends become parents, reunions, travel and changes at work. They’ve also contained death, cancer and separation. I’ve been tested and tried and sometimes I’ve been successful, other times I’ve been found wanting and every time I’ve learnt a huge amount.
Yesterday marked one year since Alby’s birth and I simply can’t summarise it. In the past month alone he has learnt to walk, to climb stairs, to stand from sitting, to clap, to point, to turn the pages on a book, to turn on lights, to play with Percy and to pull the toilet paper off the roll. And I’m sure I’m forgetting things. He’s had his first bite of chocolate and his first taste of cow’s milk. Whilst each of these will seem like completely unsubstantial developments to me they are all-consuming. Twelve months on and every smile still warms me to the core whilst his tears still bring me out in a panicked frenzy.
I find it amusing that in many ways for Mark and I the past year has been a year on hold. With the exception of a week away in Jersey and a rushed, plush meal out in London
The year’s held tears, smiles, huge, kisses and wishes. Its seen me questioned, tested, doubted, grown, learnt, shouted. It’s made me humbled by others, inspired by what I’ve seen and awed by what I’ve felt. It’s been emotional. It’s been exhausting. It’s been one hell of a ride.
Happy birthday Albert the Bear, Trouble Monkey extraordinaire. I love you.
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