Year One

Dear Jack,
You are one.

It is so hard to believe the sleepless nights, the smiles, the crying because you hate to be in a car seat, the growth spurts, the chattering, flinging food, first holidays, and the crawling have all added up to be a year. In Year One, each day's challenges seemed sufficient for the day. In the hustle of bedtimes, bathtimes, mealtimes, storytimes, and what-do-I-do-now-times, it's often hard to take in the wonder of parenthood until you look back in retrospect.

Even though we have been as busy as ever, I think we've stopped to treasure the small things along the way. And I don't just mean on those random mornings when we realized, 'he actually slept through the night.' Your father and I have frequently stopped in the middle of one of your gummy smiles to look at each other and smile ourselves. Since I'm at home every night, I treasure bathtime and storytime.....Goodnight Moon, On the night you were born, and your favorite--Wheels on the Bus--complete with movable parts. You don't tolerate longer books yet, but you do pick one up while playing and flip through the pages like you are reading. The first time I saw you do this, it was probably my proudest parent moment yet. While I get nights, your dad gets the mornings. This is when you are in your best mood and you like to laugh when I put you in bed with him to wake him up. You know hours of playtime are ahead.

You are a happy baby, and I'm fortunate for that. You love music and when a dancing tune comes on, you start bouncing and moving. You especially like James Brown and every morning, your dad makes sure you hear some jazz or soul. You never meet a stranger and go to nearly everyone willingly. Actually, you most enjoy going from one person's arms to the next....always looking for a place to go and a new person to meet.

You have a best friend at daycare and his name is Zach. Your teachers say you are always playing together, sharing toys, and trying to go down the play area stairs head-first. When Zach moved to the playroom a few days ahead of you, you each sat on either side of the plastic fence and just looked at each other. I'd imagine the conversation went like this, 'You still in there, man?' 'yeah, they won't let me out.' 'How much time ya got left?' Your friendship quickly rekindled when you moved up.

You are developing a temper, which you get honestly. Now, when you don't get something you want, youcan let out a wail that will shake the windowpanes before you put your head down and cry. When you are hurt or scared, you let out a 'silent scream' before the accompanying glass-shaking wail. You do have a mind of your own and we have to keep the staircase continually gated to keep you from climbing up them yourself, which you can do in under a minute. If you see us gating off the staircase, we'll hear the cry. Something also fascinates you about throwing things in the bathtub. When you find the bathroom door open, you will inevitably carry a small toy in there and throw it in the tub. We've found several missing items there. When I shut the door so you can't get in the bathroom, we hear another wail. You do like your freedom.

I'm looking forward to the changes we'll see this next year. I'm curious to know if you will be as adventurous as a walker as you are as a crawler. I'm wondering if you will start appreciating gravity or will continue to try to hurl yourself off changing tables, beds, couches, etc. I'm wondering when your chattering will become more words. I'm wondering if you will continue to shun sugar. I'm wondering if you'll ever like the car seat.

But I know Year Two will move just as fast too.