I hear a lot of people say the first birthday is all about the mom. Celebrating a year of surviving motherhood, of celebrating that beautiful (ha!) day of birth and bringing your precious one into this world. But ya know...it's not about me. Not at all. It hasn't been since that day I peed on a stick: July 6, 2009. It's been about that kid. Everything I ate, was about her (well...ok, some of it was for me). Everything I thought and prayed concerned her. Everywhere I go, is scheduled around her. The decisions our family makes, are for her. Every mama knows, it's not about us.
We sacrifice. We lose sleep. We pour our hearts and souls into these tiny people. They are our world.
So it's really not about us anymore. And it's the most humbling and amazing experience of my life. Never before have I understood what it truly means to put someone else before myself. After getting married, I thought I understood it. But it's so very different with the husband. As much as they don't like to admit it - they really can fend for themselves. These's tiny people? Not so much. It's all on you.
Teaching them. Praying for them. Changing their poopy diapers. Carrying them until your arm literally falls off. Playing that same dumb game on the iPhone because it keeps them happy. Just being there.
We are their constant. And they need us to put them first.
I have 4 days left in my first year with my firstborn. That makes me both sad and so proud. Watching my baby grow into a happy, playful toddler is so much fun. But her not being my baby anymore and how fast it flew by, is a little sad. I get tears in my eyes just thinking that one year is down and 17 left with her in my home.
I hope I continue to be her constant, her best friend and the best mama I can be.