Happy Birthday, Baby boy!
Wowee. You made it one whole year. Nice going.
First, your stats:
Height: 28 1/4 inches
Weight: 22 lbs 4oz
And let me tell you, I am feeling all 22 pounds when you hang off of me like a monkey.
your annual check up went well, you seem to be hitting all of the bench marks for gross and fine motor skills, your language comprehension is good.
Now for the bad: you're a little behind on your verbal development. The pediatrician said not to worry unless you hit 15 months and still aren't saying "mama" or "dada". What's with that, by the way? 'Balloon' you'll say, but not our names?
This year has been so busy--it hardly feels like 12 months have passed. I can't believe that you were so new and tiny such a short while ago. I have loved this time that we've shared, with the exception of the sleep problems and the fact that you treat diaper changes as an excuse to scream bloody blanking murder. To be honest: the sleep problems are almost entirely my fault as I cannot seem to set a routine for you and I'll let you sleep just about anywhere so long as you sleep. This has, however, put a huge dent in my time, especially now that your Dad is working 12-hour shifts. So my goal for the new one-year-old you is to get you to sleep in your own crib and get you to sleep without having to nurse to sleep.
I have really enjoyed watching you grow and develop into this funny little person with likes and dislikes. I love that you now bring me things to look at: rocks, blocks, books, carpet fuzz. The world is endlessly fascinating to you, and I love that you want to include me in your explorations. I love your funny four-tooth grin and the way you scrunch up your face at things that you find silly. I love that you eat table food, and that you have a particular fondness for fruit. I love that you dance, and that you'll dance to anything--commercials, the musical interludes on NPR, lullabyes. I love it when you rest your head on my shoulder as I sit on the floor before you run off to explore something new.
Your birthday party was quite the event, sweetpea. In attendance were your Aunt Erica, Nana and Grandpa Flecker, Maemae Cherlye and Grandpa Dick Puetz. You were showered with gifts and phone calls from people who couldn't be here, but sent their love. You were quite the entertainer for your audience, and they all loved it. You were funny about opening your presents--you didn't want to tear the wrapping paper. We helped you tear into one but you pulled your hand away and wiped it on your pants as though you had touched something distasteful. You're a weird kid--further proof that you're definitely a member of this family.
Happy birthday, baby boy. We all love you so much.
I can't imagine my life without you, and I wouldn't want to.