Lucidia Lohman

On Your Birthday (practically published to the minute)

You’re days away from your first steps as you cross the threshold from infantdom to toddlerhood—it’s as if only days have passed since you joined us on that balmy evening last December. This is a sign of your impending independence—not that everything else wasn’t a sign, because it was, like birth, babbling, rolling, sitting, and crawling were—and we could not be more eager to learn more about who you are. You have a captivated audience. The liveliness practically dances from those magnificent, maternally inspired eyes; every calculated utterance and motion, is a testament to your unfaltering drive to experience all there is to experience.

And yet you have your father’s patience. Every fit of inconsolable whininess, just a ruse to temper the perfection of demeanor that is your birthright. You never let the little things get to you—and, at your age, there are no “big things” with which you must yet contend, so you’re in a pretty good spot, little Lulu.
It is as if you were cognizant prior to your creation, and you were picking and choosing, as if we were a garden for you, which attributes and absolutes you would obtain—and you organize all of these products neatly in your collection basket, saving them for a later time, to use as you will, as though you were omniscient. But, simultaneous to your seeming harvest of your parents’ features—both physical and behavioral—there’s so many parts of you that are distinctly and fundamentally you. For instance: your voice (an amalgamation of supernova and perpetual tranquility—OK, except when the teeth approach the gum line); your double crown (which will confound you to no end if short hairstyles are considered fashionable during your adolescence); your infinite thirst for exploration (particularly around the surround sound unit’s knobs and shiny buttons); your guile (again, particularly when finding ways to bypass the odd parental leg or other implement blocking access to said surround sound unit), and so on.

It’s about an hour until the first anniversary of your grand entrance to the world—you, assuming the role of intractable linebacker, thwarted any advance of your mother’s labor, and insisted on a more formal heave-ho from the womb (we knew all along that you’d have hated it if there wasn’t a crowd on hand to see you arrive). But we can’t attribute your, ahem, steadfastness of purpose vis-à-vis “staying the course” to stubbornness alone. Your wealth of personality was apparent from the start, and every glare, coo, tweet, and yelp instantly embedded itself in our memories with a strong and sure hook—easily accessible, but indelibly ensconced.

Yes, there were nights when sleep came at a premium (for all of us); yes, there were boo-boos and fits of uncharacteristic impatience; and yes, there were days and nights when a runny nose or fever caused no shortage of hand-wringing. But some combination of astounding parental luck and your unflappable demeanor has somehow whisked away the lumps and delivered a memorable first year filled with new experiences and an education unavailable from even the most prestigious of institutions (again, for all of us).

And, as a result of this experience (the breadth of which we fully anticipate to compound annually), we promise to provide you with everything we possibly can in order to ensure your happiness and success. You have earned this simply because of who you are. By your very nature, you are entitled to happiness, security, stability, 2 parents who love you and will be with one another forever, and—above all else—a happy and peaceful home, to which you will not only be welcomed with open arms, but also sheltered and loved above all else. You have that with us, and we will continue to provide that (and more) for you.

We’re honored to be in the parentage of the sweetest, most self-assured, and unabashedly personable eleven-month-three-hundred-and-sixty-four-day-twenty-three-hour-and-forty-five-minute-old to ever brace her wobbly chunky baby legs and scan the expanse beyond this monumental precipice between baby and toddler. As you will doubtlessly hurdle forward through your development at a pace that we are only marginally able to dedicate to words and pictures (both moving and still), your memory hooks will come in very handy. We’ll be there in every instance, leading, following, being inspired, selfishly urging you to “not grow up so quickly…” all the while awash in wonderment at your accomplishments, no matter how seemingly trivial.

And nothing, my dear, about you is trivial.

We love you,

Mom and Dad

1. Michele S. Frederick @ 4:18 pm
   on December 22nd, 2009
   I absolutely THRIVE on watching your YouTube videos, seeing Lulu photos on your website, and reading the blog all about Lulu. Since I don’t have a grandchild (yet!), in the meantime, I vicariously live in the many wonderful moments of your adorable little one. Thank you– and keep it all coming! Hugs and kisses to Lulu!!

   –Michele

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