Though I’ve been steeped in denial for weeks, and hoping if I ignored it, it would go away, Bean’s first birthday arrived. I’m not ready for her to be a year old. Not one bit. I understand that my alarming level of depression is completely disproportionate to the situation, but even the thought of her first birthday has been enough to send me into tears. Why? Because I swear it was just yesterday that she was this:
And now she is this:
But, despite her pesky tendency to grow up too fast, my Bean is still perfect, just the way she is.