Phew. That first birthday bash your mother planned with the help of Pinkie Pie was hard work. We started planning it out months ago.
Well, that's not true. We put together the guest list months ago...
No, even that's a lie.
Okay, okay, so we started planning five days before the party. Mrs. Cake and I had idly discussed various options for it months ago, but we didn't actually solidify any of our plans until just days before. We were so busy with our business that we had to use Pinkie as a fulltime caretaker for you for several days. Being the daddy's girl you are, you wouldn't let go of me all night when we finally had some peace and quiet. We fell asleep on the couch shortly after the store closed and didn't wake up until the morning. That day, the store was closed, so I spent a lot of time rekindling my father role with you and your brother while discussing the semantics of the party with Pinkie. Mom and I had finalized the guest list, inclusing inviting my sister and her husband, as well as most of our family, from Vanhoover, most of Ponyville (as was Pinkie's norm), and a few from Canterlot - all told, about three hundred guests.
But that was all.
Truthfully, Pinkie only helped a little. Unfortunately, there were several ponies that also had parties around that time, and several of our guests got sick. Pinkie was busy competing against some shmuck named Cheese Sandwich on your birthday, so she herself couldn't come, and most ponies, including her friends, couldn't make it because they wanted to watch this great "party war" unfold.
We still had a blast.
Thanks to owning a bakery, we were adequately supplied with sweet snacks for the guests. I even baked off a brand new recipe my wife had found late the previous night. However, as we were setting up, we realized we had completely forgot about drinks and vegetables. For a while, this sent Mrs. Cake into conniption fits. We had to call our parents to rescue us, and the Grandmas both came through: one brought the cake and drinks, the other brought the veggies.
We finished cleaning and setting up just as the first guests started to arrive.
In total, we had fifty guests that day. Ponies had retreated from the party war Pinkie and Cheese had thrown, opting for a quieter celebration with two twins and an actual modicum of organization. I couldn't blame those who hadn't - a battle of that passionate magnitude would fry many ponies of their desire to party for a long time. A few foals around your age showed up, mostly digging through your toys and playing with each other while the adults talked. Your brother was in there with the boys like a dirty shirt.You played with a couple. Mostly, however, you were content to hover around Daddy and have your face stuffed full of cake and treats.
It was a fun time.
Now, however, in the next-day post-party afterglow, I sit here and think about all the milestones you've hit over the past year. You have come a long way from that first night back. You walk now, with a little assistance. Your magic and mouth use is more refined. You feed yourself with minimal mess. You never approved of baby food, instead opting to eat what we ate, while your brother was content to suck down banana puree until his eyes turned yellow.
Speaking of which, his flight and control are incredible. He is flying all over the place, avoiding most things, and very aware of what's around him. I wonder if he'll be as reckless as Rainbow Dash one day...
I hope not.
Twilight Sparkle has offered her services to train you in the art of magic when you're older. She is very busy as the new princess, but she's always been one for knowledge. I know you'll be in good hooves with her teaching you how to harness your magic when you're older. I wish I could be the one to teach you how to move things with your mind. I want to be there for that. It sucks to be an Earth pony who gave birth to a unicorn and pegasus.
That's life, I guess.
You're saying a few words as well. Nothing fancy, just "Hi", "Gampa", "Dada"... that kind of thing. It's so cute. You're also taking less naps, which is kind of stressful, but was bound to happen. Your body's also maturing and changing, slowly transforming you into a mare of considerable beauty. Your moves are even graceful for a budding toddler.
It's the most amazing thing I've ever gotten to witness in my life.
Okay, okay, now I have to gush about one of the craziest substances I've ever experienced: meconium. Pardon me if I get embarrassing and all fanboyish about this gross subject. After all, I am talking about a baby's first poop here, that excretion one gives off to clear their bodies of mother's fluids. If someone else's reading this, they can skip down past the black if they like. You have been properly warned.
[ MECONIUM TALK ]
I love meconium! It's a black, tarry substance made by babies as they receive nutrients from mother and drink and eat the fluids that keep them warm and protected while in utero. It's so sticky, it could give duct tape a run for its money! It's the stickiest thing I've ever experienced, and, as weird as it sounds, I can't wait to experience it again! I'd never eat it, of course. That's just sick. Ew. But to watch it in action is amazing! The only thing I don't like about it is cleaning it off. It's so sticky, if you get it on you (again, ew), it will only come off with soap and water. It's stringy, like pizza cheese, so you have to be careful about how you handle it. Yet, it's so cool! It collects fairly easily, it can be wiped off relatively easily if done in the proper way, it's nice and tidy as it emerges, and it's so sticky and cool!
[ END MECONIUM TALK ]
Phew. I hope no one reads that... getting fanboyish about newly born infant baby poop is probably going to seem strange to a few ponies.
But... I like it.
As I stated before, watching you, my daughter, grow so much over this past year has been a blessing. You're very much a daddy's girl. Mommy's food and commercial breaks to you. I kind of feel bad for her, but she's got your brother, who doesn't want anything to do with me.
I guess it's even, then.
I can't wait to see what's in store for you over the rest of her life: watching you walk on your own, learning full sentences, conversing about ideas you run into... it's going to be amazing. I can't wait to teach you about the One. I can't wait to show you what I know. I don't expect you to learn everything or even be interested in everything I teach. To do so would be naive and selfish, even though there's a part of me that would love that. Truthfully, I hope you surpass me. I hope you top me. I want you to do better than I have, and I already know that you're fully capable of that.
I'm so excited.