Someday my love, when you ask me to tell the story of the day you were born, I will say this…

Once upon a time, a boy came to the earth. And the moon and the stars and the sun and the planets all had to stop what they were doing for a moment, to make space for the enormous amount of magic he brought with him. It was like the whole universe stretched a little that day – and we all felt it. Time stood still. And when they placed that boy on my chest, I got to absorb a little of that magic. It was the best moment of my life.

And now – even though I still can’t quite believe it - a year has passed since that once upon a time. Three hundred and sixty-five days of firsts. First smiles and first laughs and first tastes and first snows and first steps. Three hundred and sixty-five days of you.

Here I sit, looking at my happy and smart and strong fluffy haired boy with his single curl on the top of his head and his sweet, silly, four-toothed grin. Wondering where those three hundred and sixty-five days could have possibly gone.

You have turned our lives upside down in the most wonderful of ways sweet boy. Taught us so much about life. You remind us about what matters. And show us what is important. You help us to rediscover things we had long forgotten. And you have most certainly made us realize what little sleep is actually needed for survival. Getting to know you this past year has been our greatest privilege.

And here you are – this ONE year old. Who loves to point at things and climb the stairs and smother us with open mouthed kisses and hide under the table and dance to Paul Simon on the radio. Who snuggles his face in his bunny when he’s tired and cozies up to us to sleep at night. Who studies the world around him with intensity, but who is also jolly and quick to laugh. And who, when really really excited, waves his arms around like a little maniac. You have big hands and big feet and an even bigger heart. I suppose there’s really nothing about you that is small – nothing about you ever was.

I can’t imagine how big you’ll get. But I know that it’s all happening right here in this moment. I became keenly aware of it that day you saw those musical instruments in the bin at the farmer’s market and you walked away from me for the first time, towards them.

I wonder where the next year will bring us and the next twenty. I wonder what you’ll love and who you’ll love and what you’ll do and where you’ll do it. But with all the wondering comes one certain truth. That watching you unfold into everything that is you will be the greatest joy of my life.

So always know – even when you know nothing else, that you are fiercely loved. You make our life complete. We are so lucky to belong to you, our Sundance Kid – who brought with him all the magic of the moon and the stars.