Age 1

i meant to make this 3 months ago, so I hope I didn't forget anything he was doing then.  today, the list would triple.

today I held smith a little bit longer when I put him to bed.  

I’ve found myself very nostalgic as of late because it seems as if he turned one and then every day after that he’s grown up a year a day.  

At one he still crawled around everywhere, wanted mom and dad to play with all the time, and didn’t say any words or even sign yet.  I would press my fingertips together and ask, “do you want more, bubba?”, and he would smile really big, give a short laugh, and kick his legs, and that’s how I would know he wanted more.  and that’s how we communicated.  I could tell if I was right in guessing what he wanted by his reaction.  He understood really well, but had a hard time communicating back to me.  

Then two months went by.

and one day he stood up next to the couch and walked over to his walker.  the next day he was cruising around the house, sometimes holding on to the walker for balance, but mostly just on his own.  the next day he signed “more”, the next day he was giving kisses, and the next day he was nodding his head yes, shaking his head no, playing by himself or with his cousins all day without even so much as a glance at me, signing “all done” and “please”, and saying catch (tat-sh), all done (aw-daw), touch (as in I’m not allowed to touch this, am I mom?).

I took him to the doctor for his 15 month check up this week.  He’s got a Lundeen head, he’s lean (like, barely on the charts), and he’s tall (average).  He’s smart, the doctor said, because he’s feeding himself with a fork and spoon and using lots of words and understands very well.  I think they were trying to butter us up before they stuck him with three needles, that’s what I think.  and as heartbreaking as it was to see him getting shots this time because he communicated with me just how he felt about it (and I understood loud and clear), it worked.  because I walked out of there so stinking proud of my smart skinny boy.

So it seems like everything has happened over night and every night I sneak into his room and peek at him in his crib and see how much bigger he’s getting and how much his crib is shrinking.  and I look at his sweet, peaceful face in the light of my cell phone.  and if he hasn’t stirred by then, I check to make sure he’s still breathing.

I know, I’m nostalgic AND neurotic.

usually when I put him to bed I can’t wait to get some projects done or have a great scripture study or read a great book or try to write a post.  usually I tell him its nap time by whispering in his ear and no matter where we are in the house, he’ll lay his head on my right shoulder.  Usually I sing my two verse lullaby I wrote for him, then sing “we are a happy family”, then give him some “shh, shh, shh’s” in his ear, lay him down on his stomach (shirtless, because the boy is always drenched in sweat when he wakes up), and pull his favorite blanket over the top of him.  then he flips his hands over and grabs onto the blanket and brings it close to his face, usually his mouth.  and I make a beeline for the door before he realizes that maybe he doesn’t want me to put him down just yet.

but today I couldn’t put him down.  today I sang five verses of the three verse “I Am a Child of God”, hummed for a few verses more, and rocked him back from my shoulder down to my arms, like he used to fall asleep when he was a baby, just so I could look at him.  and today he didn’t fight it, but just starred at me sleepily, then gently closed his eyes and let me stare some more.  then he got uncomfortable and went back to my shoulder, but I didn’t mind.  because I still had enough time to try to sear in my mind what this moment feels like.  and I know I won’t remember because I have a terrible memory.  so I just tried to find ways to remember and then outline every feature of his face with my eyes.  I finally layed him down (because he let go of me and reached for his crib), and he’s still jabbering away in the room next to me trying to fall asleep.  I’ll even bet you fifty bucks that if was to sneak in there, he’d be standing up smiling at himself in the mirror, or trying to open drawers from his crib.

goodness I love this boy.

is there ever a time that you’ll wish they’d just grow up?!  because I can’t even fathom that.