We can now reveal the meaning of Bridget's first painting. To quote from the distinguished authority Dr. Andrew Perrett: 'Expert consensus is that Bridget has drawn the character pronounced yoon, written yun in standard Romanisation, which has two meanings: The usual meaning is cloud, but unlike the English word it is a word with good connotations, often used in names (as in Yunnan province of China). The second meaning, seen in classical writings, is 'to speak'; for example, "Confucius he say" would be "kongze yun".'

Bridget's version was, apparently, highly caligraphic, as you can see from the comparison with a standard font.

So, the official interpretation is 'Bridget she say "Cloud".'

Mike's written about the wonder of Bridget's first year, but we haven't yet said anything about the momentous occasion of Bridget's birthday. We found it to be a somewhat muted affair, because Bridget was coming out of a cold, I was in the middle of it, and Mike was coming down with it by the end of the day. So our plans to do things like take Bridget swimming (probably her favourite activity) were shelved and we played things more simply.

Present opening mostly happened mid-morning, after Bridget's post-breakfast nap. Bridget thought it was very exciting pulling cards out of envelopes, if they'd been set up so that she could easily get hold of them. Removing wrapping paper was less of a thrill, but each and every present had to be handled once it appeared. We found that she got distracted from time to time by familiar favourite toys such as her Duplo, but she could be persuaded to revive her interest in the pile of boxes.

We made sure that Bridget had lots of her favourite foods to eat (raspberries and roast potatoes to the fore here, but not together). We presented her with a fruit cake with one candle on it at tea time. And we did our best to amuse her and keep her entertained through the day. Despite the cold she was very happy almost all the time and thought her new toys were very exciting. She's been putting them through their paces even more in the last couple of days.

By the end of the day, everybody was exhausted and an early night was had by all. It wasn't, as I said, quite what we'd had in mind, but then we hadn't really known how a one-year-old's birthday would work. Next year, when Bridget begins to understand what birthdays are about, we'll really be able to go to town.

This has been the best year of our lives; the nearest competition dropped out crying by the roadside several kilometres back. And I have no idea how to begin putting any of into words.

Stepping back for a moment from 'news about Bridget', here are a few fairly random thoughts on what this year has meant for us.

Being daddy
A friend of ours complained a while back about those couples who end up using 'Mummy' and 'Daddy' as their names for each other, as if their relation to each other (and their perceptions of themselves) had been entirely eaten by their relationship to their children. I know what she meant, and I am glad that Hester and I managed to go out together five times without Bridget: one register office trip, one film, one restaurant meal, one concert, and one shopping trip - although preserving this kind of Bridgetless space has seemed a whole lot less important than it did a year and a day ago. On the other hand, 'Daddy' is simply who I now am, and the person who is married to Hester, chats to friends, holds down a lectureship in theology, writes books simply is Bridget's Daddy. I don't mean this simply as a logical point - it's deeper than that. I am a different person now. And, if it isn't a deeply bizarre thing to say, I find I like this person more, on the whole, than I like the pre-Bridget Mike.

Becoming grown ups
Hester and I were talking last night about becoming grown up. You think when you are young (at least in a context like the one I grew up in) that grown ups know everything and are sure of what they're doing. And you expect that you'll feel like that one day - but you never do. And all the things that are meant to make you feel grown up - leaving home, getting married, buying a car, getting a job, buying a house - don't actually get you there. You begin to realise that grown ups were never actually 'grown up' in this sense either. But there is another kind of 'grown-upness' - the realisation that you're in charge, and can't any longer run to a responsible adult when things get tough because you are the responsible adult. Life brings with it a lot of forced growing up, these days, as responsibilities accumulate. But in life with Bridget we feel like grown ups. Not in the sense that we know everything or feel sure about what I'm doing (as if!) but in the sense that we feel that we're the one's responsible, and that while there are friends with advice all over the place, we don't any longer believe that the real responsible adults in this case are anywhere but here. And yet this isn't (predominantly) terrifying: 'it is our duty and our joy'.

Precociously happy
I worried before this year began that I was going to be having to fight down wishes for Bridget to be precocious - to start speaking early, to start doing differential calculus early, to 'beat' the other babies we know. But although it is fun when she does something she's not meant to be able to do yet, I have been surprised at how little this whole way of thinking matters to me. What does matter to me is that Bridget seems to be precociously happy: a smiley, cuddly, cheerful baby who cries little and sleeps well. I have no idea what tangle of nature and nurture makes this true, nor how much my pleasure in it is due to the regular good night's sleep it gives me - but I know I'd willingly trade the chance for Bridget to get a starred first at Oxbridge (or whatever) for a continuation of this happy trend. I think that has been the most wonderfully surprising thing about this year - and it perhaps underlies the other two points (being cheerfully 'grown up' and liking being Daddy): that Bridget has been so patently, gloriously happy so much of the time, so that my overall sense of the year is dominated by giggles and smiles.

And finally...
So: this year has been wonderful. We wouldn't do anything different if we lived it all again, and we wouldn't groan if someone said we had to live it all again. Bridget's arrival is the best thing that has ever happened to us - because, as our very first post said, 'she's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.'

...Bridget's first birthday. What a wonderful day to have reached, after the best year we've ever had. At the moment there's not much to tell because it's 6.57 in the morning, and Bridget is still asleep. But I felt like making sure we got an entry written today. (I'm sure there'll be one later, but just in case.) I'm glad that we didn't have anything planned like a big birthday party because Bridget's got a cold on the way out and I'm in the thick of it - I reckon I got less sleep last night than a year ago! So it's just going to be a very quiet, relaxed day with the three of us, me and Mike and our ONE-YEAR-OLD.