His not so baby anymore sister was 1. This fact was wrong, it had to be, there was no way they'd had her for 362 days. They'd had her forever, he couldn't remember life without her, life without her was just wrong, it was empty. Yet at the same time it seemed incomprehensible that it had been a whole year since he'd first held her in his arms. He could still remember the weight of her, so light he was scared stiff of coughing or sneezing near her, especially whilst holding her, in case he would break her. How had it been so long? He'd barely noticed her growing and then one day it had struck him that she wasn't a baby but a small toddler who was crawling and toddling, almost beating their mother to walking unaided. Now she was a monster on legs. Her babbling was unriveled by any baby at the clinic, she was well used to the swarms of people and seemed to endeavour to hold a conversation with each person. She reserved her main babbling for her parents, brother and Grannies Julienne and Evangelina though. She loved all of her extended family but her grannies she loved most. Sister Winifred had been an unlikely choice for favourite aunt but Angela had made her choice and that was final.
At first the family had been unsure whether to celebrate just her birthday or also her adoption anniversary. The dates we're only a few days apart so it seemed extravagant to celebrate both but each event was intrinsically important in it's own way. Eventually had settled on a larger party at Nonnatus for her birthday and more private family gathering jusy the four of them, Sisters Julienne, Evangelina and Winifred.
He'd long known that his sister was beloved by many but he had been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from the community towards her. As the daughter of two of the most respected people in the area and an absolute darling Angela recieved a frankly ridiculous amount of presents. Tim had been reminded of the outpouring of love from the community following Dad's collapse such was the extent to which their living room had been buried.
As was their way the nuns had all knitted outfits and toys with Sister Monica Joan handing over her knitted nun with familiar glasses and stance with a cheeky glint in her eye. He'd almost cried with laughter as Angela took one curious look at the doll before throwing across the room only to cling to it several seconds later when it was returned to her. She'd kept hold of it for the rest of the day.
Fred had crafted a set of shape sorter and peg board that had reduced Mum to tears in it's elegance. 'Uncle' Fred was born then.
Trixie had bought a miniature nurses outfit that Barbara had altered to look like a Nonnatus one. Nurse Crane had gotten in on the idea and found a miniature doctors uniform 'seeing as young Miss Turner had spent so much time at the surgery anyway.' They'd all laughed at that.
Jenny had sent a promise of great presents when she next visited. She wanted to see Angela's face as she got it.
Patsy had reportedly had a grand time shopping for presents but eventually settled for push trolley that jingled as it was pushed.
The gifts from the community were less personal and more practical. He'd overheard Mum remark that they wouldn't need to buy anything until Angela turned two. Teething toys, blocks, dollies, clothes and the like. Those who had been unable to spare expense sent well wishes and many had instead baked cakes for the family. None of those beat the majesty of Mrs Bs birthday cake.
The next day, there were no presents exchanged. Instead they all took time off of work and took Angela to a local park where they fed the ducks and let her chase the birds in her own stumbling manner. Sure they probably looked a picture-three nuns, an aging woman, a middle aged man, a Scottish woman, a boy with weeds for legs and a hyperactive baby. As far as he was concerned they looked just as they were-a family.