Baby Girl is one year old. As I type this, it is thirteen minutes from being the exact instant she was born, one year ago. Which means I was probably out cold at this instant one year ago. Oh well.
For her birthday, we packed up the car (because a day trip with a one year old is like a week-long camping trip for adults) and took the long-ish drive to IKEA.
Mimi got the kid’s meal with macaroni and cheese and steamed vegetables for lunch. Her dad slipped her some fries and chicken finger bits, too. She wasn’t interested in my Swedish meatballs, hmmm…
She got to play in posh showrooms,
And dormitory showrooms (seriously IKEA, what’s with the “Swedish military barracks” setup at the front of the store?)
Sparks found a Captain’s Chair. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t have fit in the car.
IKEA is exciting and fun, but we all got very, very tired. It’s good to know that even grown-up one year olds can still sleep in their car seats.
Happy birthday, my bestest, tiniest girl. At one year old you pull up to stand and “cruise” while hanging on to furniture. You say “mama” and “dada” and “hi”, and sometimes even “kitty”. You drink from sippy cups and straw cups. You have four teeth and we’re pretty sure you’re getting two more. You fearlessly climb on anything and everything you can, including me. There isn’t a single stronger, smarter, more beautiful, or more loved one year old girl in the world. Keep it up kiddo, we love you so so much.