Congratulations! You've made it to your first birthday with us as your parents. In the past year, remarkably you didn't end up in the ER because we dropped you or neglected you, we didn't have to call poison control, and we didn't make the 6 o'clock news. The past year might be a bit of a blur, so let me recap for you. Despite being in the care of two people who have no idea what they’re doing, you appear to be a happy, healthy, sweet, energetic, little boy.
How can it be that you've been a part of our family for a year already? It seems like just yesterday I was pregnant with you, feeling your big feet round house kicking me in my ribs. We were so anxious for your birth. For about a month, I had prelabor. Scary since your daddy wasn't even in the same country as us until a few days before you were born. You were born after 31 hours, yes, hours of labor via c-section. After all of the hard work it took to bring you into the world, you'd think I would sleep a bit, but I didn't. I was awake for over 12 more hours just getting to know you. Honestly, I was a little afraid that I would be one of those mothers who couldn't instantly bond with their baby. Especially since we had to get you out with a last minute c-section. Thankfully, it wasn't the case. You knew who I was instantly. Holding you in my arms felt natural, normal, like we had been together this way for ever. Nursing you was a breeze. No learning curve or awkwardness. Again, it came like second nature. Most of your baby-hood has been this way. Your father and I doing what we felt was natural or felt right. You've made most things pretty easy. With the exception of a few biggies. Like sleep. And eating solids. And wearing shoes. You are a stubborn little man. I'm sure you get that from me. And some from your dad, I'm sure.
The moment you were born is the moment that the mother in me was born. I have been a daughter, woman and wife for a while now, but this whole mom thing is rather new to me. I was a little scared when we found out you were going to be a boy. I wasn't so sure I could be a mom to a boy. What do you do with a boy? Girls? I know girls. I'm a girl. But boys? Daddy has laid some ground rules like no painting your toenails and no dressing you up in frilly dresses or bows. (Honestly? Boys clothes just aren't as cute. But I've been good and not put you in any girl clothes or anything.) I've learned that you do everything the same as you would a girl. You love boys the same, you teach them the same, you discipline the same. Sounds easy, but it isn't. On more then one occasion, I know I've said, "I don't know?!! What do you want from me?! What am I supposed to do?!" Thanks for your patience. Being a first time mom can be a bit hard. Honestly, you learn as you go. I've read dozens of books on how to be a mom. Literally dozens. You've seen them. They're under the coffee table and you chew on them and spill stuff on them. Yep, those. They give a good foundation and guideline as to where you might start from. But they aren't going to give you all the answers. They don't tell you why your kid will only sleep as long as someone is within an arms length of him. Why he will say several words, at the right time, in reference to the right thing for weeks, and then never or very seldom use the word again. Or why he won't eat off from a spoon, but will shove literally anything in his mouth as long as his little pudgy fingers are putting it there. What gets us through these things? The knowledge that it won't last forever. You change more and more LITERALLY every day. Every day you do something new. Last week alone you discovered several cool things you could do with your mouth. You started with plucking your bottom lip with your finger making a "blulp blulp blulp" noise. You then learned that you could stick your tongue out and blow raspberries. A variation on that was blowing raspberries with just your lips. You also liked to reach up and pluck our bottom lips to make the noise. All of that, just last week. You have the ability to do anything if you put your mind to it. Seriously. And I know you can and will. I don't know how you muster the gumption up to try again after failing at something as often as you do, but you do get back up. You keep trying until you get it right. If you get knocked on your ass by that damn baby swing, you let out a yell, get mad and try again grinning while showing that fricken swing whose boss.
Every day that goes by I'm more and more in love with you. I love you in a way that I've never loved anyone before. I know your daddy feels the exact same way. We love you in a way that is different from how we love our moms and dads. It's different from how we love each other. It's different from how we love our siblings. We love you special. And in that specialness we realize, although probably much too late in our lives, that our mommies and daddies love us that way too. Being a parent clears up a lot of things that we once thought were unjust or unfair or just didn't make sense on our parent's part. We understand more of what went on and why things happened the way the did when we were growing up. Our moms and dads were figuring things out on their own as well. They were doing the best they could and making decisions and enforcing rules or standards they thought were right. And from what I can tell, they mostly were right. I know now that you won't understand half of the things that your daddy and I do until you have children of your own. Sad, but true. I know you won't really love me the way that I love you. And that's okay. As long as you know that your daddy and I love you more then anything in the world. We're doing the best we can to make sure that you are a confident, caring, successful, balanced, secure, Godly man.
In the past year you've made us laugh, cry, hold our breaths, smile so hard that our cheeks hurt, melted our hearts, held our hands, filled us with emense joy and pride. I love that you love rubber ducks, your "rockstar" face, love chasing the cats, tickles, flirting with every Asian girl that goes by, hate clothes and love to be naked, love Good Night Moon, insist on saying goodnight to everything outside of your bedroom window before you go to sleep and then check outside the second you wake up. You love all music, and love your daddy's stupid goofy faces. I love that you LOVE chocolate. I was afraid you might not since I couldn't stand it when I was pregnant with you. I secretly adore being your favorite person and smile on the inside when you choose me over your daddy or Miss Thess. I love it when you laugh. That is the BEST sound in the entire world. It has to be the most infectious, amazing sound in the whole world. You are so smart that it constantly astounds me. You say things that I've never taught you. Like last week when you pointed into the bathtub, waving your hands around in it like you are splashing and exclaimed, "Water!" "Water!". How did you do that? You do stuff like that all the time. And think nothing of it. I love your open mouth kisses. I love how you share. I love how when you don't like a food you get the most disgusted look on your face, stick your little pink tongue out and scrape it with your fingers crying and screaming "uuuuggggggghhhhhccckkkk!!!" the whole time. Hilarious. I love snuggling with you. You bury your little nose into my neck and hold me tight. If we're sitting on the couch watching TV (I know, I'm a bad momma for that) I love how you run your little fingers over my skin and put your arm around me. I love how you smell. I love the little sigh you do when you fall sleep. I love how you bop and tap and clap TO THE BEAT of almost every song you hear. I love that you seem to prefer rock and roll to other kinds of music. I thought babies were supposed to like classical music or something. Shows how much I know.
For your birthday we aren't getting you any presents. I know, I know. But seriously? I buy you stuff all the fricken time. After seeing how much fun you had with the one balloon I got for my birthday last month, Daddy and I are going to get a bunch of balloons, helium and regular blow-um-up-um kind and let you go crazy. I'm also baking you a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Miss Hannah is lending me a little 4-in cake pan so you can have your very own cake to demolish and squish between your fingers like you like to do. Daddy and I found a "1" candle and Daddy found candles that spell "Happy Birthday" at the local bakery. You have no idea how to blow yet, so I think Daddy is going to help you with that. I'm going to make a regular sized cake in addition so we can actually eat it too. Also, we technically aren't going to celebrate your birthday on your actual birthday because we are going to be out of town for your birthday. It kills me. But that's life. You will be with us in Daejon for the week while we perform a show. Boo. Sorry little guy. It's not exactly what I had in mind for your First Birthday. Stupid Army.
Thank you for sharing this last year with us. Thank you for choosing us to be your mommy and daddy. Don't tell Daddy, but really you are my most favoritest person in the whole world. You are the song in my heart that never stops playing.
Happy 1st Birthday, Sweet Heart. I love you.