Today was just another day for The Little Madam, but to me it marked two things - her first birthday, and the fact that I really did survive my first year of motherhood with my sanity more or less intact. So far anyway.
She's fairly blase about the birthday cards, her present from the lovely eb (acopy of That's Not My Dragon) and a cheque from her grandad, all the way from the UK. As far as The Little Madam was concerned, it was just another day in which to bumshuffle-crawl into the rubbish bin, stick her fingers into kitchen cupboards and pull the tea trolley until it toppled over and landed on her face.
Since the actual celebration is not until tomorrow, I'm assuming that's why the boy hasn't conjured up any birthday presents. And I didn't get her anything at all. When she's old enough to ask me why, I'm going to tell her exactly what my mum used to tell me (in stern Cantonese) - "I gave birth to you. You should be giving me a present."
Since it was so sunny and relatively warm, I took TLM to a neighbourhood park, where she sat in the swing and laughed at the sight of me in my sunglasses (I don't know why she finds it funny; I like to think I look cool and hip in my sunglasses). Then we went to the library, where I let her loose amongst the board books. When she caught sight of her old favourite, Bathtime Peekaboo, her whole face lit up as though she'd spotted an old friend. It was a rather touching reunion, really. I had to borrow it to take home so she could continue to paw it's pages and gaze at the picture of the giant rubber duckie.
After we got home, I put on a Buffy CD (the first one). I don't tend to play music much now, so it'd been a while since she last heard it. It was really cute how, when TLM heard it, she just sat completely still with this faraway look in her eyes. It was as though the familiar soundtrack was bringing back memories of when she was in the womb.
Then it was off to bed at 6, almost seven hours after she'd woken from her last nap.
So ended TLM's first anniversary.