One year ago yesterday, my baby boy was born. In the past year he has learned to roll over, sit up, crawl, pull himself up, and take steps. He has gone from whimpering to babbling to saying "woof." He used to be happy to be held, but now only mama and dada will do -- sometimes. He would sleep through church, then flirt with old ladies, then tried to play the piano throughout Sunday school, now can't get through a meeting.
I remember the tiny "honking" baby of 9 pounds, 2 ounces who really did look so small and defenseless in the big baby crib at the hospital. I can't imagine where he went.
I remember feeling so relieved that he was going to be born. His due date was the 12th, and the 13th was a very depressing day for me. I didn't even try to look cute. No, the husband's old t-shirt for me that day. Fortunately for my sanity, Thursday the 16th was chosen for his birthday. Despite my easy birth with Sabrina, Sasha needed a c-section. Or, as Shakespeare put it, "Ripped untimely from my mother's womb." Extra credit if you can name that play.
I feel so lucky to have this boy. He sleeps well (at least until 5 am, when he wants MOM!), plays well with Sabrina (except when I'm holding them both, when he wants just me), and loves his daddy (which is the best of all sometimes!).
Happy birthday little one. I love you so much.