Happy Birthday, my little hobbit! Congratulations on the riotously successful completion of your first year. Your favorite part, by far, of being a year old is the decorations we hung in the house before your party on Sunday, and you have spent the last three days begging me to lift you over my head to grab the banners hung over your fuzzy little head.
You are a marvel. You talk non-stop, even giving your sister a run for her money. She has the edge in actual words, but you sure have stamina. You have some words too - hi, Dada, Mia, cracker, all done, yay, moo and achoo (you love to sneeze). You sign ball constantly to make sure that nobody misses the presence of any ball in the entire universe. You also sign milk, eat and more.
After your party as we were getting you and Mia ready for naptime, you discovered that you knew how to stand up. You've been doing it briefly for a couple of weeks, but this was the first time that it really dawned on you what you were doing. You've been practicing non-stop ever since. Just today you stood up on the floor, both wooden kid chairs, the couch, your choo-choo (which is on wheels, stop that!) and my stomach. You love to climb - stairs, furniture, people, walls. You crawl so fast that I sometimes have to run to keep up with you. I can see in your eyes sometimes that you are giving some serious thought to giving that walking thing a try, but so far you haven't decided that it is worth slowing down long enough to learn.
You love balls, books, balls, blocks, balls, trucks, balls, anything noisy, balls, anything that fits into anything else, and balls. You love playing with Mia and have gotten so you respond when we call for Abu (we play "Jasmine" a lot). When Mia hides, you come get me and point to where she is so I can find her. Your favorite game is when we take the gate at the bottom of the stairs down and let you make a mad dash for the stairs. Someone comes to grab you just before you start climbing and you laugh and laugh and do it again.
You have ten teeth with your two bottom molars due any minute, and you use them to eat anything you can get your hands on. Usually, you eat my food and scream if I don't provide a taste of whatever I have. Your favorites are peas, grapes, quesadillas, lentil soup, and veggie sausage.
You are still a total mama's boy and if Mama is around, nothing else will do. But when I am out of the picture, you are doing better and better about being on your own. We had someone else put you to bed for the first time last Friday, and you went into your crib without a peep. It is a relief, I admit, to be getting a break from the constant neediness of your baby-ness, but I am naturally a little sad to see that passing too.
Sweet Owen, this year with you has flown. When you woke me up at 5:00 this morning (we are still working on that) I could scarcely believe that it was exactly a year ago at that moment that my water broke, heralding your imminent arrival. Only one year ago right now you were still wrinkled and squished, only a few hours old and asleep in my arms. Your sister no longer remembers a time before you were born. While I remember that time, I can no longer conceive of it. I don't know quite what we all were before you, but I know that we weren't right, we weren't done.
Thank you, little monkey, for coming to us.