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April 24, 2007
And Now He's One
My Dear Mr. Boobinator,
A whole year has passed since you were born and that astounds me. You are still my tiny little Baby Man, my Stinky McGee, my Boo Boo. You are still my baby, even though you are one.
I'm not sure when the words change so that you are called a "toddler", but I'm sure that whether "toddler" or "preschooler" or "big kid" or "teenager" or "grown-up", you will always and forever be my baby. You have been a giant blessing since the day you were conceived and I am just so thankful for you.
You are both picky and easily pleased. You know what you want and are angry until you get it, but as soon as you do, you grin from ear-to-ear. We are stopped everywhere we go by people telling us how adorable you are. You have giant blue eyes and a heart-melting grin. You tilt your head down and smile up at strangers, especially if they are ladies who you know will love you. You are a charmer and a little love.
I love how when I get home from work, you crawl over everything in the room to get to me. You've such purpose and you let nothing get in your way. I love how you love to cuddle and be held and how you think the cats are the coolest thing ever. Except maybe fish and fans. They are close seconds. You love to look at other babies and you love your sister more than anything in the world. You cry when she does and laugh when she does, even though you don't know what the tears or the giggles are for.
You love to play ball, move trucks around and you really, really love GI Joes. You already know to make them walk around and to dance. You love to watch You Tube clips with Daddy and you love to watch Emily Yeung's show on the Disney Channel.
You still love to have boobies and you love sleeping next to me. When it's time for bed, you tell us loudly that YOU WANT BOOBIES IN THE BED. NOW. You don't use the words, but we know.
You say a few words: ball, cat, hi, momma, dada. But not consistently and I'm not even all that certain you are saying them. You tell us in your own ways what you want, though, and we always know.
You've been sick a lot with colds (dragged around to Signa's "events" exposes you to more than we like) and you've been a trouper through it all. You are getting used to us wiping your nose and taking your Tylenol. Your first 6 teeth came in quickly, but then nothing for a long while, other than those THREATENING to come in- causing you pain. Poor baby.
What's funny to me is that I can't imagine my life without you. And yet you've been in it only 1/39th of it. I love you so very much.
Thank you, Will, for being my little guy and for blessing this past year with the wonder of you. The happiest of birthdays to you, my Baby Man.
Love,
Momma
Posted by Debbie at April 24, 2007 10:42 AM