31 May, 2013
When She Turned One
From the first moments that I felt Kjel's little flutters inside of me, I just knew that she was an old soul. Her eyes locked into mine when I held her on the hospital bed, moments after she'd emerged into the world. I saw wisdom in those blue eyes; wisdom and peace.
We spend Kjel's birthday weekend at the beach in Outer Banks, North Carolina. It was a perfect weekend with some of our most favorite people on the planet and their children (who I swear are 'practically perfect in every way'). My favorite, favorite part of it all, though, was watching the way my children interacted with the ocean.
Gage was sprightly and curious and the sea soon became his old pal. Moments after walking on the sand, he threw his entire body into a small wave and came up gasping for air, laughing like a loon. He couldn't get enough of the shock of cold, the charm of broken shells and the adventure of the sea air. To Gage, life is a beautiful, funny challenge. It is a mountain to climb, a lesson to learn. He is liveliness and youth.
KJ was different. She was amused by the sand and could sit for far too long than her bald head should've, scooping up sand and shells. When I took her farther and set her down, toes just barely out of reach of the lapping sea foam, she looked out on the horizon with an expression of humble awe. She wasn't phased by the immensity of it all, she wasn't scared. She wasn't giddy or silly. She was smitten. Not just by the ocean, but by the wholeness of it all - the sea, the sky, the birds, the love of family.
She obviously couldn't articulate her feelings to me with more than peaceful smiles and little breaths and sighs, but a mother knows these things.
My little girl turned one at the beach.