she wore a raspberry beret, duh.
Lillienne’s first birthday party was wonderful. At one point there was 34 people in our dining room and living room, and although I seriously considered jumping off the balcony just to get some fresh air, everything went smoothly: there were no tears or open wounds, and Lillienne charmed everyone by walking around, babbling her excitement. She was so good, and even though she missed her afternoon nap, she let her cousin carry her around like a farm cat, was patient as she was passed around from relative to friend and back again, and grinned like a fool for most of the photos.
I have a hard time believing that a year has gone by, and that the little girl wobbling around in her little party dress was the same baby who we brought home from the hospital, the tiny baby who just lay on her back and squirmed for the first 3 months of her life. It’s amazing how fast she grew up, from rolling over to army crawling to full on baby crawling to walking to nearly running. From formula to rice cereal mush to berries and cheese and crackers. From a teeny tiny cradle to a crib. From a little blue plastic tub to the big bath tub with bubbles and bath toys and Tupperware in the tub. From swaddling blankets and tiny onesies to leggings and shoes and frilly shirts. From baby hats to hair clips and bows. From rattles to cabbage patch dolls. From dewy dewy dewy to hi mom, hi dad. From lying on her back swatting at toys to turning pages in books and chewing on the couch. From baby snowsuits to toques and mittens, pink snow boots and sled rides. From rolling over to dancing when music or figure skating is on TV. From newborn to baby to little girl. From Dustin and I.
So before Lillienne was born, I bought a pack of ten finger puppets from Ikea. I didn’t know that I was investing in 10 bite size “security blankets”.
There’s a giraffe (Dustin says hyena but he is clearly delusional), a monkey, a bear, a frog, a toucan, a duck, a panda, and I’m pretty sure the rest are scattered about at Granny’s place and Auntie’s house.
The past few weeks, Lillienne MUST have one these clenched into her tiny left fist, carrying it wherever she goes. She carries one everywhere, and hasn’t lost one yet. She has one in her first when she goes to bed, and it is still in her fist when she wakes up. She has one mashed up in her fist while she eats her cheese, crackers, fruit, etc, and a couple of the puppets now smell like old cheddar and sausage.
She takes them in the bath with her. Dustin says this is FINE! (He takes it away when she starts sucking the bathwater out of them…) but I usually draw the line at the tub. Although I guess they do need to be washed, too.
In the last 500 or so photos of her, there is ALWAYS colorful small object in her hands.
Last week we went to the store and when we came home we realized she must have dropped the little bear puppet somewhere. My heart felt crushed. One of Lillienne’s tiny puppets was lost and alone, no longer crushed in her chubby left fist, probably abandoned in a murky dirty snowbank or in an aisle at Sobey’s.
And then last night we found it. Beside her car seat in the truck. And we were BOTH thrilled, Lillienne and I. Lillienne, because the puppet belonged in her hand, all mashed up. And me, because a little part of her babyness was salvaged.
I took one and put it in her memory baby box. Must. Savour. Babyness.