10 years ago, back when Aliza was a just a little blob of pinkish flesh, we were so unsure of ourselves.
You assume when you are expecting, because you've read Drs. Spock and Sears, that you'll know what to do and you won't have any trouble keeping your baby alive. Then, they pop out and you see their little noses, breathing in air for the first time, and you marvel at the miracle that this little blob of flesh just knows what to do, to survive. You watch them in wonderment, as they start doing all the things humans need to do, just by instinct. You see the fragility of this life you are now responsible for, 24/7/365, for-the-rest-of-your-life. You wonder whether you are up to the task.
We wondered whether we would ever have the nerve to stick a thermometer in her butt.
It's just awe inspiring, to look at a baby face and know the girl she has grown into. Look at that little happy grin. This was 10 years ago now. Forever ago and at the same time, the blink of an eye.
I remember looking into her eyes when she was an infant, wondering at the child she'd become. The person.
I don't know for sure how other parents feel, but we've never stopped marveling about that.
(Sorry for the blurry, distant shots. My phone tries its best, and so does my good camera.)
And that is about all the reflection I have time for today. Aliza has transitioned smoothly to double digits.