Dear Abigail,
You became a toddler in the middle of a global pandemic. The world was sheltering in place and you were getting your feet under you. Everything around us was shutting down and you were pushing yourself up, walking around the room mesmerized by this newfound freedom of movement.
You're changing so quickly it feels like whiplash. Weren't you just crawling? Weren't you just in tiny newborn onesies with spit-up stains around the neck? Weren't you just so dependent on me you were like an extra appendage?
Now you're walking everywhere and almost running sometimes. You pick tiny buttercups in the yard and smell them and show them to me. (Sometimes you get carried away and stuff one in your mouth, but you spit it back out again so, even in that, you're growing up.) Your great grandad taught you how to call the cows and now you yell for them every time we're outside.
You are brave and tough. You quite literally dust your hands off after falling and shout "OTAY!" You are fearless, and it both terrifies me and fills me with awe. I want to be more like you my dear girl.
I couldn't have predicted a global pandemic when you turned one year old. I also couldn't have predicted how just watching you learn and move and grow in the middle of it would fill me with so much hope. You are my favorite surprise.
With Love,
Mom
