Wednesday, September 24, 2014

One Year Later

Dearest darling,

A year and some weeks ago, I wrote you a letter.  You were new and fresh and itsy bitsy, and everything about you charmed us. While your arms and legs were filling my belly, a love for you was filling my heart  - and well, that love exploded the day you came.  Once, I heard a mom say having a baby was like having part of your heart split off to walk around outside of you.  I'd say that's about right.  You've carried a piece of me around with you for nearly 400 days now.  From rolling over to sitting up to crawling like a maniac to the two faltering steps you've lately managed, my heart's gone with you, all the way.    



In a classic case of chest-bursting parental pride, your Daddy and I are convinced you are the cleverest baby yet.  You aren't regularly using words (although you have said mama, dada, more, and go) but you respond to questions with a yes bob or a no shake, and you can fetch things for us that we ask you to get.  You like to point to our facial features and then yours, waiting each time for us to say what it is.  "Nose."  "Mouth." "Eyes."  In one of the books we read you, the daddy bunny tells his son he loves him as high as he can reach, and when we get to that line, you stretch both your hands above your head.









Your skin is so soft I can still hardly believe it, even after a year of touching your chubby thighs and kissing your cheeks.  You love the spray of the water hose, and when it rains, you stand at the screen door and cry to go out.  You stare strangers down with your big brown eyes and rarely proffer a smile at first meeting.  You can spot my purse from anywhere in the house and yank it down to the floor by its strap, pulling the contents out one by one.  You love to be chased up the stairs.  You crawl to your closet and yell for me until I come, and then you show me that you want to wear your shoes.


You are really into things you can't have, and this is where the most challenging part of being your mama comes into play.  Daily, I tell you not to touch the computer, my cell phone, or the toilet, and daily, you decide you'd rather touch those things and suffer the consequence of getting your hand swatted.  When I put something you can't have out of your reach, you throw yourself on the floor and scream.  I tell Daddy about our rough days, and he says he thinks it's only just beginning.  :)  He's right. This will be a lifelong battle, my sweet one.  The force of your will and selfishness will only grow, and you will always want things that are not good for you.  Mama knows from experience.  Yet.  There is One who will reshape your heart if you let Him.  Daddy and I pray that you will run early and run often to Jesus.

What a beautiful year it's been.  I love you, my sweetness.  And I forever and always will.

Love,

Mama

Monday, September 22, 2014

Birthday Blitz

In our little threesome of a family, our birthdays all fall within ten days of each other.  This year was a banner year - one of us turned 1, one of us turned 30, and one of us turned the age that is very, very close to 30.  

Aaron is first in the birthday train.  His birthday went something like this:

(Driving home from church, which means the time is somewhere around noon, aka, roughly 6 hours after we woke up, aka, this will become an important detail soon. )

Me: Hey, let's stop for a taco since we're not having lunch 'til later.

Aaron:  You mean like a birthday taco?

Me:  Oh hahahahahaha.  Oh my goodness.  Uncontrollable laughter.  

Aaron:  You didn't really forget my birthday.  

Me:  Oh, no, I mean yes, yes I did.  Still hyperventilating laughter.

Aaron:  No you didn't.  You have something planned and you're just acting like you forgot.

Me:  Still laughing while wondering how in heck I am going to dig myself out of this one and also wondering why he didn't say ANYTHING about it being his BIRTHDAY for an entire HALF of a DAY.  

So, obviously, I am Wife of the Year.  

I made up for it by getting him not only a birthday taco but also the most expensive and peanut-buttery ice cream cake Dairy Queen offered. 


Am I exonerated? 

Anna's birthday was next.  You're right, you're right!  She's the one who turned one.  We had a little outdoor party at my parent's house for her.  I wanted to call it a soiree on the invitations.  Aaron talked me down from that one.
Aaron also talked me out of making her a healthy banana muffin-cake.  The girl got the real deal.  Chocolate cupcake with white brain icing, complements of a mom who doesn't know her way around an icing tip.  She played with the brains for a while, then gingerly ate about half of the cupcake.  It was an entirely underwhelming first cake experience.


After she was through, she wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin and said, "Thank you, mom, for my first experience with refined sugar.  But I think for my next soiree, I better stick with a banana muffin."  

My 30th birthday tied up the celebratory forenight.  It was a sweet and simple day.  Breakfast with my mom, lunch out with Aaron and Anna, and a dinner I didn't have to cook at my parents' house.   Also.  My husband remembered my birthday.  I am sure I could write a whole post about my feelings on 30, but for now, the story is that I am grateful for a new decade and this skin feels more comfortable than ever.