I whispered in your ear last night while you drank your bottle, and told you that one year ago, we were one. One year ago, we were taking Lucas to the playground, pregnancy waddle in full force. One year ago, you were kicking inside and I was merely wondering what the next days, weeks, months would hold. Today, you are one. We are twelve months apart as two individuals. I’m not feeling your little nudges on the inside; I’m watching you walk around, almost run. You are one year old, and I’m so thankful for you.
At one, you are a bundle of emotion – raw emotion personified, I’d daresay. You swing from happy to sad; laughing to crying – there’s little rhyme or reason to it at this point. You are completely frustrated that you can’t talk. I imagine you’d love to scream at us and tell us exactly what you want. Instead, you point and urge, you collapse in half and cry, you hold your breath till you are blue. And for all the intense drama, there is an awesome side of laughter, hugs, open mouthed baby kisses, arms raised up in the air signaling your need to be held.
I’ve never met such a passionate, determined spitfire. You are persistent to the core. The typical “distract them with shiny things” method of baby control has no impact on you. You toss the shiny aside and walk as quickly as possible to your heart’s desire — usually the dog’s bowls, the toilet, or the dishwasher.
You love to laugh with Lucas. Even if you are hysterically crying, his laughter makes you smile. You guys are trouble in the car already — egging one another on in games of shrieking, laughing and more. I often glance in the rear view mirror to see you two holding hands. I’m in love with your love for each other. Of course, that love isn’t always laughter and hand holding. You’re boys, after all. It’s often wrestling, pulling hair, diving onto one another’s unexpecting body. There are often tears and lots of crying –the misguided affection of one brother onto the other can be painful, but it always starts from a place of love.
You’ve got this walking thing under control. You can stand up by yourself without pulling on furniture or steadying yourself on the wall. Your walk is starting to more closely resemble a run these days, especially when you are zooming towards danger. You’re busy. All the time busy. Keeping us on our toes chasing behind. It’s probably time to get you some shoes…. poor second child doesn’t have any. In thirty years when you complain about this fact, I’ll remind you that I never made you wear Crocs and plastic bags on your feet. See, I love you and your brother the same! Regardless, I promise we will make shoes happen this month.
You love pushing toy cars, rolling (usually throwing) balls and shaking maracas and other musical toys. You dance whenever you hear music – it’s an amazing little head bob, body shake bop. You are still a stinker in the sleep department – we have middle-of-the-night visits more often than not. Sometimes they are quick and easy — but others you shout and carry on until you get to come into our bed. Your brother never liked to sleep with us, but you love it.
Eating has been hit or miss lately. I think it’s just part of your passionate personality. There are times you love certain foods and can’t get enough – and others you’d rather throw it all off your highchair tray and cry because Mommy is the meanest for giving it to you. You are always happy to get fruit, crunchy snacks or veggie purees. You are less interested in meat, pasta and pick up veggies.
Benjamin, my sweet Benny boy, I’m stunned you are one. Wasn’t it yesterday that we had Lucas at the playground while I was still pregnant? What a year it was – you are our determined and persistent, sweet and snuggly, funny little man. I adore you!
I love you everyday!