Today you are one. You were born at 5:23 in the morning and by noon, we were headed home with you. It was altogether the hardest and easiest experience of my life. Definitely the most amazing.
You and I are joined at the hip, as they say. I haven't left you often, and when I have, you have let us all know how much you wanted me back. There are days that I can't even walk out of the room without you screaming. It's flattering, but it's also time for you to realize that I am always coming back for you.
Just over the past month, you have really started to express yourself - that is, beyond the screaming when I leave the room. You have learned games to play (Colin's got a silly hat on his head), started using everything as a "phone," and learned to walk wherever you wanted to go by holding on to the back of your Pooh train.
The dogs love you, and you love the dogs. It's frustrating to cook for you only to have you toss it down to your buddies. You think it's hilarious though, and it's no surprise that your first consistent word (other than Mama and Dada) is "woof."
You are a terrific eater (when you are sharing with the dogs). It doesn't matter what it is, you will try it. You love peas, bananas, yogurt, mac & cheese, broccoli, and a multitude of other things. Basically, anything we have, you reach for and won't stop until we share.
I love the way you have started singing along to songs in the car. The best is when you call out "duh duh duh, ahhhhhhhh" during the "speck of dust" verse from the violin song by They Might Be Giants. It's adorable.
You can't keep your hands off of a drum, guitar, or any other musical instruments. The Boomwhackers have become little baby didgeridoos, and you have been a rock star on the kazoo for months now.
The wrestling matches you have with your brother make me incredibly nervous. The two of you will tumble around on the bed, diving on one another; I'm predicting many bumps, bruises, scrapes, and possible trips to the ER. I hope you will prove me wrong.
These are just a few of the things I want to remember about you right now, on your first birthday. I'm sorry about your baby book, or lack thereof. I vowed not to slack on that, but somehow didn't follow through.
And now? I have to go check on you. You still cry for me a few times a night, and tonight especially, you need me due to the major pukefest we had at bedtime. Nothing says "happy birthday" like throwing up your cupcakes.
I love you, little man.
Your Mama
