Almost Breaks My Heart

The one year anniversary of the day of your birth is close. I've said it and thought it again and again and will keep saying and thinking it...I don't know how it can be. You turned 11 months four days ago. I can count on one hand the number of weeks until your first year of life is gone forever.

It is coming too soon.

Much, much too soon.

A year since that evening in the hospital? A year since I first saw your face? A year since I first held you and kissed you and named you and brought you home?

How?

I want to write about you, all about you, one more time before you pass that huge mark.

I haven't been nearly so dedicated at writing about you all these months as I would have liked to have been. There was so much, so much I should have, could have written. But, two little boys makes for one busy mommy! Though not all the memories are in type or on paper, they're all in my mind and in my heart, and they are my greatest treasures.

I lived each day with you and loved you to my heart's fullest, and that's what counts.

You are such a beautiful boy.

So beautiful with your blond hair and your curls. I've let your hair grow and grow and it is becoming quite wild. In the last couple of days you've been mistaken for a girl twice. I should probably consider busting out the scissors soon.

But I am struggling to cut those baby curls off forever.

But,

I know whether I do or not,

1 year gone is coming.

Haircut or no haircut, there's no stopping it.

I am struggling with losing my baby forever.

After 1 year old you will still be a baby,

And yet, not.

That word, "toddler"...I don't know if I can use it to describe you, I just don't think I can bring myself to do it.

But you are most certainly on your way to toddling.

Not that you are walking yet...not quite yet.

Your preferred method of transportation is still crawling. And boy, are you quick! I always seem to underestimate how quickly you will get from A to B. How quickly you will get back to that thing I just took away from you in the room clear across the house that I just carried you out of. (You hate it when I do that.)

Though you're not walking just yet, you are certainly working your way there. Pulling yourself up on things and lowering yourself back down is old hat to you, easy peasy. You cruise along the furniture here and there, this way and that, but you're not cruising circles around the living room just yet...you usually hit all fours whenever you really want to move. There have been a few very brief moments where you've let go of whatever you were holding on to and stood there unsupported for a tiny second before plopping back to the floor. We haven't witnessed you make any attempts at steps yet, at least on your own.

And that is just fine with me.

I am not going out of my way to encourage you to take steps on your own just yet.

I am not ready for you to walk.

I am not ready for you to grow up.

You can take as long as you want, I am in no hurry.

I love it when you crawl toward me, sit up on your knees and reach your arms up for me. Or pull yourself to standing on my jeans and cling to my leg until I pick you up.

That never, ever fails to warm my lil' heart. (No matter how inconvenient the timing might be.)

Being needed by you is always nice.

You are getting your top 4 teeth in...maybe even a 5th or 6th too. Such a cute toothy boy, you. But you grind them! Stop grinding them! I know that little discovery is probably very interesting to you, but dear baby, please stop grinding your teeth!

You wave, and oh its cute, it kills me every time. For awhile your wave was a silly sort of leg-slapping arm motion, but now it really is a wave. You wave when you hear "Hi" and "Goodbye." I will never get enough of it, you can wave at me forever.

More things about you...

The desire of your heart is to get to the bathroom.

So you can get to the bathtub.

You love the bathtub and you love baths.

If the door to the bathroom is left open, and especially if anyone is in the bathroom, you make a beeline to get in there and immediately go to check out the tub. You like to pull yourself up and look in the tub, and you're tall enough that you could just lean over and fall right in! Hence, the reason we keep the door shut. =)

When its bathtime and I sit you on my lap and start to run your bathwater you squirm and struggle like there's no tomorrow to get into the water...it is honestly, physically difficult to keep you from diving in headfirst! Once you're in you splash and splash and make a mess to rival those of your big brother.

(Between the two of you I think more of our bathtowels are used to mop the floor than to dry human bodies.)

Changing your diaper is not a pleasant experience for either of us. You.do.not.like.it.one.bit. You are too busy and you are upset the moment I place you on the changing table. You twist and squirm and cry and protest in every way possible until I finally get your bum covered!

I always joke that you are a scavenger. You find the tiniest, and I mean most miniscule little bits of anything that are on the floor and try to consume them. I try to keep those floors clean, but boy, guaranteed, if there is a crumb or anything bigger hiding anywhere (or some remnant of a snack that your big brother left out and within your reach), you will find it. And then when we try to catch you to fish it out of your mouth, you take off running...well, crawling (as afore-mentioned). But run-crawling.

So little, and you already know when you're busted. Its so cute.

Other hobbies of yours are playing with shoes (ew....sorry I always take them away), watching the washer or dryer spin and trying to climb into or pull things out of the dishwasher when its open.

Oh yes, and hanging out with that brother of yours. You watch him intently and seek to do whatever he does, play with whatever he's playing with. He doesn't always like sharing with you, but he loves you to bits. He is always asking to hold you (but of course you squirm away). He is always trying to hug you (but of course its more like tackling you).

Tommy can get a little rough with you sometimes, but you're pretty tough. Little-brother tough.

Watching the two of you play together is one of my favorite things. I can't wait to see you grow together. Though I'm sure that breaking up fights between you might become a staple of my every-day-life before too long, I know you will love each other and be best buds.

I love that you both have a brother.

And boy, does your daddy love you. It never ceases to amaze me how your sweet-tiny-beautiful-human-being-cuteness can turn your broad-shouldered, rugged manly-man of a father into a marshmallow. He lights up with a huge grin when he sees you after a day away. He's over the moon for you. (And you are always excited to see him, too...you take off run-crawling when you hear his voice coming through the door.)

Your daddy is a fun-rough-and-tumble sorta Daddy. Though you're still a little small for rough-and-tumble (as I'm always reminding him), Daddy always finds a way to include you in the action. You particularly love jumping on the bed (with Daddy's help) with your big brother.

(I think mommies are supposed to object to jumping on the bed...something about monkeys comes to mind...but I don't so much mind. Some of the best times we 4 have are jumping and rolling around on the big pillows and blankets of me and Daddy's big ole bed, dontchya think?)

(By the by, Daddy's a little bummed sometimes 'cause you're a bit of a momma's boy. I secretly sorta like that you are a bit of a momma's boy, but hey, give your daddy a few more of those snuggles. And what the heck, let him put you back to sleep at night too! ;) That would be nice...

...Cause you are not such a fabulous sleeper at night. Nope. We need to work on that little buddy.

But, no matter how many times I end up falling asleep with you in the glider in the middle of the night and wake up hours later with a sore back, or sore neck, or sore legs, you're worth it.

You're worth anything. You're worth everything.

I love you with my life,

my sweet one who is

almost one.