Deat Jack B'Hat,
Today you are one. Around this time one year ago, we were both adjusting to a new world: You were learning how to breathe and eat and exist here, and I was only acutely aware of the miracle that had just taken place. I had only a glimpse of the responsibility being your momma entailed. Actually, I feel like I still only have a small idea. Maybe God works with new Mommas that way - allowing them to understand, in tiny portions, the immense responsibility that is raising children . Otherwise I have a feeling that the human race might end a lot sooner than anyone intended.
But here we are, one year later. You are happy and healthy and wonderful! Here are some of the things that happened this month:
* Shoes are a problem. You've been a hippie baby for 11 months and because your Uncle Putz and Aunt Shugs are getting married, your Yaya (new name for PawPaw) decreed that you must wear shoes at the airport (at least) and probably at the wedding with the sailor suit she got for you. I think she really wanted you to wear those white baby shoes that have been around for ages. I voted for sandals. In the end, you have some navy Cons - a compromise, I think. Even if they don't match exactly, I think they have a big enough coolness factor that it doesn't matter. I did get you some airport sandals, but you HATE them. You would rather crawl. And that's how you foiled our plans to keep you germ free at the airport..
* You would rather study things than play with them. Paranoid Momma is constantly worried about autism - What are the signs? Does wanting to study toys rather than play with them mean that something is wrong? Everything is amazing to you. I suppose I should worry more if it wasn't. But I can already see you playing with Rubiks Cubes and tinkering with broken AV equipment. I love that you're curious!
* "Uh-Oh". Daddy thinks this is your first word. I still think it's "Momma." Anyway, as is typical of babies, you say "uh-oh" a lot. You mostly say it right before you throw something on the floor. Daddy keeps telling you that when you throw something on the floor on purpose you're supposed to say "Damn it!" But I appreciate the warning. Sometimes I can even catch what you're throwing. "Uh-oh" also lets me know when you are finished eating, seeing as you say it right before you start throwing the food you don't want to eat.
* Your hair is nuts. Seriously, kid. Where did you get such nuts hair? It sticks out everywhere, in all directions. It's like whack-a-mole. If I smooth down one cowlick, another one pops up on the other side of your head. I honestly don't get it. Is your DNA coded with a cowlick chromosomes? Dude! People (read 'strangers') love to point out your crazy hair. Mostly we hear comments like, "Look at his hair!" and "His hair is sticking up! That's hilar... er, cute."
* You took your first airplane ride. I don't really want to preserve that memory other than to say that it didn't go well. Everything was OK until we got into the air. Maybe you were feeding off of my anxiety. Maybe you were tired or bored. Still, the folks around us wished they had brought earplugs. I know we aren't ever supposed to drug babies, but we bought some Baby Benadryl yesterday. Even if we don't use it, keeping the medicine close makes us able to endure the idea of the plane ride home. Maybe we'll just pass it around to the other passengers or slip it into the flight attendant's beverage cart. Then they can sleep while you scream.. (sigh)
* You have four teeth. All of them are on the bottom. You are the cutest piranha I've ever seen.
* You've learned to communicate when you are hungry. You point to yourself and say "Ack" which I think is "Jack", and then you give the sign for milk. You think the milk sign means "eat". But I get what you're saying, which is the point.
* You smile at everyone which means you melt a lot of hearts everywhere you go. Yesterday you made friends with two airline pilots at the airport. They even let you wear their hats!
There is so much more that I'm forgetting. We're still in Georgia at the moment, and I'm a bit distracted my the goings on. But you are so much a part of this family. Going on a trip together solidifies it. I think it's because your Daddy and I love to travel and this is the first trip - hotel room, airplane ride, etc. - that we've taken together. You better get used to it, kid..
I love you more than oxygen, Baby Boy!
Happy Birthday!!!
Love,
Momma