My baby turned one today! Well, technically she turns one in about three hours. I can’t believe it, the year has flown. But on the other hand, it’s hard to remember that I existed before her at all. The forty years of whatever I was doing up until her birth just seem like a dim shadowy memory, a necessary prelude to her arrival on the scene.

This afternoon, we had a little party. My mother baked a cake and so Edith had her first sugary baked good, and she didn’t hate it. Her nanny joined us, so all of her favorite people were here to pay homage to her, and we presented her with a number of gifts. At first, she was a little overwhelmed by it all, but eventually, she rose to the occasion and had a real blast. In fact, she was having so much fun that she skipped her second nap entirely. Then we went out to dinner and she had her first french fry. So overall, a red letter day.

Meanwhile, I feel completely done in, and this is after a simple and brief gathering with an easily pleased one-year-old. How will I survive the birthdays of the future?

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