I am so sorry you haven't gotten minute-by-minute updates on this blog. You are my third baby, and I have had to sacrifice some good things in order to keep up with better things. (This blog being one of those good things!)
You, my boy, are surrounded with love. You were born into a world full of family and friends, the first of my babies to come to a real house and siblings and grandmas and cousins ... it's been a beautiful, crazy life for you!
Instead of blogging, I have spent my time trying to be present. To be what YOU need me to be, what your brother needs, what your sister needs, and what your dad needs. Aaaand ... the house seems to need me a lot as well. I have missed blogging; it's a time for me to sit and really look at our lives. I never fail to see how blessed we are once I take a time out to think about it! Everything has fallen into place for us, and I couldn't be happier!
But it's busy. Oh it is so busy.
I keep waiting to write about you until I catch up on all the other stuff on this blog, but the weeks and months keep slipping by, and now you're 22 months old! Your second birthday is just around the corner, and I can't believe it.
Your almost-two years of life have flown by for me, but I hope they have been everything you've needed. I'll try to sum up the last year in this post!
Oh my sweet, brand new boy. Your first month of life was blissful. It shouldn't have been; moving into our gross, fixer-upper house is what put me into labor. So I brought you home to an outdated, cat-hair infested, bird-poop crusted home. I had two other kiddos needing my attention, and a husband who still couldn't sleep at night due to the stress of running his own business. All our things were in boxes; including your clothes!
But I felt I was so full of love I might explode. Your dad was an incredible support all throughout laboring with you. Three of your many aunties were able to come and see you enter the world, and we laughed and cried through it all. I came home to your Nana going through every box, finding cereal bowls for your brother and sister. She and your aunts found clothes for us all, and your daddy's shoes so he could go to work. I felt like I had a whole community of people who loved you and I, and supported us. I felt like I could do anything. I even dared to test out placenta encapsulation and was incredibly impressed; send your wife to me when you're older and I'll tell her all about it. I had never experienced such a feeling of joy when bringing a new baby home; but with you, I did.
Right from the beginning, you latched on and nursed like a champ. You gave us four hour stretches of sleep at night, just like your brother and sister. And when you were awake? Well you weren't up much during that first month, but when you were, you just silently stared at everyone running around with those giant lash-lined eyes of yours. On the rare occasion that you cried, I could quickly comfort you with nursing, a nap, or strapping you to my chest with the Moby wrap. You loved that thing. You also loved having your wrinkly toes kissed, and you especially loved when daddy's big hands would rub your fluffy-soft head. You would close your eyes like a puppy, and your spastic little newborn body turned to soft putty in his strong hands.
When you hit two months old, I was shocked. How did it go by so fast? Your sister had screamed her way through her first two months. I thought it would never end. I braced myself for you to do the same, but before I knew it you had breezed through that first eight weeks with hardly a peep. You made me feel like a good mother, like you were content with your life and happy to be the third child in our chiropractic family. When Mac and Belle would giggle as they put stickers on ever inch of your little skin, you just watched. When they brought you every stuffed animal and blanket they could find, you just lay there. And when they made their best efforts to hold you gently and kiss your long fingers, you took it like a champ. You were an easy baby to love.
Just like your brother, you loved being tightly swaddled at night. You made a delicious baby burrito. There were many nights that your Dad would come home, snuggle you for a bit, then carefully wrap you as tight as could be. He smoothed out every wrinkle on the blanket, whispered, "Oh there you go," and kissed your fluffy head before handing you back to me. And then I would take you and smell your new skin and kiss your velvety cheeks before reading a book while I nursed you to sleep for the night. That is one of those blissful pictures I have in my head of your new baby-ness. I hope to never forget it.
And when we traveled to visit all the family we had nearby, you continued to be content. You let anyone hold you, but you did make it clear from time to time that your favorite person was your mom. It was just right for me.
You did, however, teach me this Christmas that chocolate was not your favorite thing. I went a little chocolate-crazy that holiday season, and you made yourself loud and clear that your belly did not sit well with chocolate-flavored milk. I won't lie, it felt quite devastating to me. However, I had already had a baby who cried and cried despite my every effort, and I was not about to let that happen again. So I gave up chocolate for an entire year, and you immediately returned to your content, grinning self.
Oh that sweet smile! When you started smiling, you didn't stop.
Your first hair-cut was at three months old, and since one of your favorite things in life has always been a good head rub, AND you could hold you head steady like a champ at this point, it went perfectly. Well, as perfect as your non-professional hairdresser could get it. Fuzz is extra hard to cut!
By four months, you were rolling over and teething like crazy. Your bite-size chin was constantly wet with baby drool, but that didn't stop us from wanting to eat it.
By the next month, you proved me right when your first tooth came through. Your dad would always roll his eyes at me when I explained away your fusiness with "teething", but lo and behold that tooth came through and you were once again happy. You quickly learned to sit up, and you hit my favorite baby stage: pet rock status. Sitting up and watching everyone, but not going anywhere yet.
I wasn't sure when to let you start eating, but around six months old you leaned forward and sneaked a bite of the banana I had. You just about gummed that thing to death, so I started letting you eat off my plate. You did not look back.
I don't think you ever had a single jar of baby food; only the real stuff for you! Berries were always a favorite, but I couldn't (still can't) get you to go for avocados. It was a favorite first food for both of your siblings, but for you ... not a chance. I can only explain it as a result of your having been born in Utah, instead of the humid, warm California that Mac and Belle experienced. What else could it be?
You also, around this stage, decided that Mom was your one and only. There were days I felt you were trying to melt into me, you snuggled so close. Most days I loved it ... but there were times I left you with Dad and sneaked out the door without saying goodbye. Those late-night Target escapes were a welcome break for me, and stressed your dad out a bit. You were not okay being at home and awake without me, and let him know.
The next month, you started crawling. You were the first of my babies to pick it up so naturally; not head-scooting like your brother or backwards like your sister. You just ... took off. And were thrilled with your new-found freedom. I was so happy you could get to your binky on your own, and frustrated that I now had to keep you away from our death-trap wooden stairs. But you never fell, and crawled like a maniac. All that baby fat seemed to melt away for a bit.
But don't worry, it came back. You got reeeeaallly good at eating my dinners, and those cheeks plumped up again. Your new-found independence resulted in more demands from you. You became louder than ever and we all ran to answer your every beck and call.
By ten months old, you already had 8 teeth and had begun to walk along couches and tables. Your favorite thing in the world was holding someone's finger and walking out into the great furniture-less unknown; you stuck with that for quite some time. You pointed and yelled and squatted frequently, and your brother and sister both laughed and brought you everything you wanted. Belle got frustrated with you at times; especially when you went for her favorite stuffed animals. But she quickly learned to distract you with other toys while she took her prized ones back. The relationship seemed to work.
At about this time, I decided I had had enough with your sleeping habits. You weren't horrible, but you just wouldn't kick that 4 a.m. feeding. Your siblings were both sleeping a solid 10-12 hours by now, but I had been so afraid to let you cry at night (because you would wake up your stressed-out Dad when he already couldn't sleep much), and had jumped out of bed when you called. But finally, at 10 months, I sent your dad to sleep downstairs and I kept a pillow over my head. You didn't cry longer than a couple of minutes, and after three nights you didn't make a peep. I felt silly. It was almost too easy to get you caught up to your siblings.
Though you still didn't love to be with your dad (unless he was taking you outside), by eleven months old you were starting to sound like him. The two of you developed a very manly grunt-and-growl language that continues to this day.
And then, you were one.
You got to have your first birthday at Bumpa and Nana's house, which neither of your siblings got to do. We made you a big bouncy-ball cake, since it was easily your favorite game; it was one you could participate in with Mac and Belle. I loved watching the three of you giggle and squeal as you chucked bouncy balls around the house ... loved it so much that I didn't even tell you to stop when you knocked my picture off the wall.
You seemed to like it okay.
You loved Belle's gift of an eagle. She even showed you how to speak like one. ("Screeeech!")
You were not quite so thrilled with the airplane riding toy from Bumpa and Nana ... it was a bit loud and fast for you. But now that you're two, it is one of your "special toys" that you worry about if someone else gets too close to it.
Your actual day of birth was the following day, so I tried to sit and think about what you would like to do.
It was walking. Holding hands, and walking.
We really did do it all day long.
You did however, give me a break here and there so you could shoot some hoops.
And that, my tiny guy, is a brief summary of your first year of life. It's not enough, but there are several key moments I pray I will never forget. For me, you were a magical baby with those giant brown eyes, tiny mouth, and nibbly little chin. You are the perfect addition to our family; I am so grateful you were sent to us when you were!
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