The First of Rosie
If I hadn’t permanently crossed my eyeballs in on themselves from editing this RosiestravaGANZA! ten minute, seriously-you-should-think-about-popping-yourself-some-popcorn video, I would have waxed all kinds of poetic as a prologue to it. However, my technological learning curve is way steep, but not, unfortunately, as steep as my expectations. So that is why I will just try to be as coherent as possible as I sit here in the wee hours to tell you: I LOVE ROSIE P.S. HERE IS HER VIDEO.
In all seriousness, I’m not even sure I could find the right words to describe the ways she has changed my life in just twelve months. Noah changed my life by adding a layer to me that didn’t previously exist: Mother. But Rosie has changed me in a different way. She helped me find things in me that were already there, long forgotten or never even known. You can’t help but dive into a reflection pool when you are a woman birthing a female child. In so many ways, good and bad, she is you. You are her. And all this is amplified for me as I see her grow and realize all the ways in which Noah is different from me. He’s an apple not very far from his father’s tree, and already, at one year old, I can see Rosie’s plump and shiny fruit plain as day, right on the ground at my rooted feet.
She is her own person too, of course, and as I see this person emerge I marvel at her tenacity and her pluck. Her joy and her strength. Her beauty and her vivacity. Her rock star hair.
I’m just ever so grateful to have had this fledgling time with her – this small sliver of her life where she is most fully mine and least the world’s – because I know that soon (unbelievably soon) I will have to let her go into that exhilarating expanse beyond my here and now and continue on the path that she so clearly has always known and claimed, right from the very beginning.