Today is my little girl’s birthday.
And she’s not so little anymore.
So independent. So cheeky. So full of life and full of character.
She’s beautiful and moves with a grace of living completely in the moment – which she should, of course – she’s only two.
She lights up my whole world with her smile and her sweetness.
I’m squeezing every last drop of babyness out of her I can get.
We weren’t going to have a party for her.
I thought “she’s only two.”
But this is the last two year old party we’ll have.
It’s bittersweet because we just have firsts and lasts.
I wasn’t going to do anything until I thought about the lasts.
And what about all those people who don’t realise it’s the Last last.
Or those who never got to celebrate at all.
So we invited friends and family.
She was coddled and cuddled.
She was spoiled.
She was held tightly in arms of those who love her and showered with affection and well wishes.
Just the way every baby should be.