How? How? How? Isn't that the tune I always sing?! It has been a year. And, what a sweet one! This little guy...he lights up our lives. He just is the sweetest thing. So, so good.
We had flu for his birthday, but we still had such a special, little day.
I made this cake.
It was fun, but it wasn't my favorite one we've made/tried.
Jeremy made pasta to go with our meatballs and braciole (yes, with his fun new Italian cooking interest), and I think Henry loved every bit of it.
He watched his siblings open and put together his gifts.
And, he was so proud of them singing to him.
He ate every last bite of the cake...in true Fisk/Carter family fashion.
Then, he tried out his new set of wheels.
Oh, Henry. You are so loved. As our family has gotten larger over the (short!) years, I am sure some have wondered how we can love each of you enough when we are pulled in so many different directions...when each of you still needs us on a very basic level. The truth is, I've wondered the same thing right before each of you were born. It has kept me up at night. The fear of the unknown (even though I should know very well how instantly I fall so deeply in love with each of you as soon as you're in my arms), coupled with the hundred other thoughts running through the mind of a soon-to-be momma again can oftentimes be paralyzing. But the truth is, you were made for us.
You were given to us as a gift...one that we borrow until we can get you back safely into the arms of the Giver. And as we receive you, our hearts wonder where you ever were.
I couldn't love any of you more than I already do. Although, at times, with my failings and yellings, I'm sure you question that.
What I mean to say is, you all are loved. Beyond measure. And, with each little one of you that comes along, our hearts are stretched more. You have helped us to realize there truly is go greater gift than life. While we have made so many mistakes, you are teaching us what is important, what can be let go, and how to grow in patience (sorry I need a daily lesson).
I worry I will mess up. I worry that I will parent you in the wrong way. I sometimes go to bed at night praying that you know I love you because of the difficulty of the day.
I do. Each of you. And, I always, always will.
Happy birthday, sweet boy.
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