Tara had a perfect birthday today. She went to bed with a smile, and I with aching muscles. Putting the special day together had me running like a headless chicken, but it was worth every discomfort when my little lady put her arms around me at night and said she had a wonderful day today.
Another year has gone by. I was led to believe that it gets harder with children as they grow up. I disagree completely. In my humble opinion, the first 6 months are hell on earth, the next 6 months marginally better, as you get used to being in hell. 18 months things start looking up, 2 years it feels easier as does 3. But 4 years later, I feel immense pride in having a perfect daughter, so easy to be with.
Or maybe that's just Tara. One hell of a good girl! Its my privilege to be her Mum.