A year ago today was my first mothers day. Small fry was about 4 weeks old and I had gotten up with her in the early hours to feed her. While burping her she spit up an enormous amount for her little size right down my shirt (the inside of it that is). But she settled right in and fell asleep so I just kind of wiped up as much as I could and closed my eyes and rested with her in the rocking chair. Later that morning I got ready to give her a bath before church and after taking off her diaper and lifting her up to lay her on the towel she showered my front again with pee and poop. "Welcome to motherhood." It seemed like then, I was just trying my best to keep afloat with a new baby and new life. Always on the verge of tears. I wondered if I would ever reach the point of feeling sane once again. Especially sleeping. I think that was the hardest part for me, feeling so extremely tired all the time. I was not used to that. Then little by little we got into a routine and things started to click, sanity started to come back, and my baby learned to sleep through the night. Now here we are gearing up to do that all over again and chasing after a brilliant little toddler at the same time. It is amazing how you just grow into motherhood right along with your first child, the motherhood that works for you. You can't prepare completely for being a mom because Heavenly Father sends you your own personalized teacher. Mine is a beautiful blondy, with the most sparkling blue eyes, who loves to give hugs and kisses and who constantly surprises me in everything (and who is currently digging in the trash to retrieve the remainder of a cinnamon roll I threw away earlier. Judging by the cream cheese mustache I would say she found it. Dad to the rescue.) Little miss small fry, "How sweet it is to be loved by you."