Happy 1st Birthday to Us!

A whole fucking year. Christ. It's a very strange, humbling moment to realise you have survived an entire year. I'm there trying to play it down, you know? Like, everyone gets to the first birthday, big deal. And while this year has been an absolute wonder, it's been super fucking hard too.

I look back to a year ago and, like everyone says, you wonder where the fuck the time has gone. It's as if you've missed days, months from your memory. At the same time, I'm very aware of how long and arduous and draining every single day felt. I remember specifically at 6 months - the harder 6 months - and asking myself, how the fuck has it only been 6 months? Now, all of a sudden, I'm asking where the time has gone. Be careful what you wish for, I guess. In trying to speed past the most difficult period, I've seen too much of my time hightail through my grasp, and it's only taken delayed hindsight for me to realise how fleeting time can be.

Yes, yes, I know - I am speaking like a cliched old writer, looking back at his life and cursing time wasted. And I know lots of you are probably reading going 'calm down you melodramatic millennial prick,' which I can accept, I should do. But - that first year of your child's life demands a lot of you. Demands a lot of change, a lot of adapting, a lot of perseverance, a lot of grit, a lot of patience, and - it demands a fuck ton of your emotional energy.

We all have different experiences in that first year. Different milestones are reached, we all have to compete with different personal issues and worldly problems as well as taking care of a baby. It's a lot of stress, and that can not be downplayed. Especially now, with the world how it is, the stress of living is higher than our parents experienced, for various reasons, and we were brought up in a world we were told was majestic and fair and everlasting and kind and that we do whatever we want to do in life. As we've all got older, we've realised that isn't necessarily the case, and our childhood dreams are shattered day by day. That's an emotional toll right there. That's heartbreak. Your emotions are already spent. Now add a baby into the mix.

For one whole year, you have dealt with the price of living a 21st century life, with a severe lack of sleep, with emotional and physical fatigue, with shedding more tears than you'll ever care to admit to your bros (we've all cried this year, and we've cried a lot). It's a good time to reward yourself. Because you fucking deserve it mate. You really fucking deserve it. Meanwhile, let's not forget what helped get you through it all.

We all have a support circle - some are bigger than others. Friends, family, neighbours, etc. And I personally couldn't be more thankful for all those people who came and decided to help even a little bit, because that's still a lot to take on given the circumstances. For me - this milestone was only reached because of my partner. My wife. We have both find it hard at time, both felt panicked and anxious and stressed and just crumbled into floods of tears. But she has been a rock. Immovable, fearless, unyielding. When I was scared and didn't know what I was doing or if I could do it, she was there. She gave me the courage and the confidence, and I relied on her a lot. And I can never fully repay her for that. She'd never let me anyway, because to her, it was nothing, which makes me want to repay her even more. So this day, this 1 year birthday, that's for her.

She carried that thing inside her body for 9 months. 9 fucking months, and couldn't even go get pissed one night and smoke a bowl to take the edge off. And then, straight away, thrown to the fire of parenthood. Not once did she complain, look back, hesitate. She just kept going after some of the worst physical trauma a human body can go through (that's not my wife specifically - all women who birth go through that shit when I refuse to get out of bed because of a blocked nose). This is her day, and I wanna make it about her. So I ask her, what does she want for the baby's birthday, and you'll never guess what her answer was...

She wanted it to be about the baby. The testosterone in me came out. I was protective, I was defending justice. In my mind I was like, what?! That is not fair. Firstly, the baby isn't gonna understand, it's just another day to them - the only difference is there's presents she'll never play with in a week's time, and balloons, and her first time trying cake (fucking hilarious, by the way, and also a complete waste of money and baking prowess). This day should be for my darling wife. We should have some bubbly and toast to her. She should get presents. She's actually going to remember this. Appreciate this.

Obviously, I was only ever being half-sincere in my ridiculousness. Yes - it is the baby's day, absolutely. That poor little thing has gone through so much, and can't even express how it feels or what it wants. For me though, I just really wanted to celebrate my wife, and all she's done and continues to do, and congratulate her on an amazing year. So guess what? We did both.

Our daughter had her fun little socially-distanced birthday where she was the centre of attention - even more so than usual. It's not about if she remembers it; it's about making her happy. I know that seems obvious and like something I should be doing every day - and I do - but obviously you get that extra little push on her birthday. She opened presents (she watched us open her presents and give them to her), she went to the park, she ate cake, people made a fuss, there was even a mariachi band (not booked by us - completely coincidental).

When she napped, we did our usual things. Clean up and prepare for the next wake period, and take some time to ourselves. Today, we toasted each other, gave each other that extra bit of love, reminisced about this crazy past 366 days (leap year, I'm not an idiot). At night, we ate great food, hung out with friends, and had some drinks. More than usual, but tomorrow, we would wake up and do the exact same thing we've been doing, so there's no time for hangovers and self-pity.

In the midst of this, I did have time to surprise my wife. I bought her a piece of jewelry, because I'm one original mother fucker. But, this piece of jewelry was made with my wife's breast milk. Yeah, they can fucking do that, and it's awesome. I happened to stumble across an instagram page that did it, and I thought, this would be amazing. To commemorate the best and scariest year of our lives with a memento that is not only an ode to our daughter and the substance that gave her life; but also an ode to my wife, the miracle of breast feeding and the absolute wonder that is the female human body.

(Link below to the jewelry artists instagram page).

https://www.instagram.com/themilkywaybreastmilkjewelry/

I didn't take many days this year to pay attention to my partner, to praise her, and worship her, and tell her what a phenomenon she is. That's out of sheer ignorance, self-pity, stress, and an ability to properly voice my emotions. And bribing someone with jewelry so they forget your emotional neglect is not something I approve. But I can work on voicing my emotions, towards my wife and in general, with a physical aid, and something my wife would adore.

So cheers to one whole year. Celebrate your incredible child, but don't forget to celebrate your phenomenal partner in crime, and very importantly, give yourself the praise you deserve. You fucking did it mate, you're doing an awesome job. Go have a joyful cry, remember to let it all out and embrace those emotions fully. Because tomorrow, we start year 2.

Fuck.