Oh, the first year.
It is hard for me to believe how fast it went, or how much you grew. You don’t really resemble the tiny, sleeping infant we took home from the hospital any more. The infant that who would only sleep nuzzled into my chest for the first two months. The one who was scarred by his own hiccups (unfortunate because you got them at least three times a day). The frustrated little three month old who wanted to so much on his own, but his body wouldn’t let him. The infant that would glare at me when I put him down for ‘tummy time’. The little baby who started screaming in a college cafeteria, causing a pack of frat boys to glare at me. Which earned the response: “Safe sex kids, safe sex!”
The four, five, and six month old who couldn’t nurse properly, causing both of us much heartache. You don’t really resemble the baby who learned to roll over, be amazed, and smile really big when you righted yourself. The one who slept through all of the 4th of July fireworks, much to our amazement. The baby who attacked our plates when we tried to eat dinner (oh wait, you still do that).
You spent much of months seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven developing your little personality. You fell in love with walks in the stroller, quietly sitting, watching the world go by. Sometimes you would hum little songs. So cute. I don’t know if you will continue to sing me songs and look in amazement when we go for walks, as there is a foot and a half of snow on the ground. I do know that you will no longer sit sweetly for pictures.
You eat what we eat now, you sit and “read” your books, you want to do things for yourself. You are outgoing and funny. You are full of energy. You are my joy, my love, and the best/worse boss I will ever have.
You are still my baby, even though you are getting bigger every day.