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10.10.2012

dearheart

Today, my Squish is one year old - it is his very first birthday.

It bears repeating: one year old.

This morning when I was getting Squish ready for the day, I opened the drawer to look for something special that he could wear.  I saw a bright orange Halloween onesie that seemed a little flashier than what I usually find in the drawer.  (Think brown sweatpants and striped tees... lots of them.)  I looked at the label and read, "6-9 mos."  I hesitated.  I actually wondered if Squish could wear the Fancy Halloween Onesie even though he has been breathing air on this earth for twelve months today.  (And he has been pretty big for his age for each one of those twelve months.)

It is time to admit that I often think that Squish is nine months old.
Maybe ten months.

But today marks one year of Squish - technically, a year no faster or slower than any other.  Yet I find myself lagging behind and struggling to recognize that we are not rocking away our afternoons in Brooklyn anymore.  I remember when Squish was a tiny, tiny Squish, and I wondered if, in the future, I would have a tendency to see Squish as Young and Bug as Old.  I wondered if Bug would be forever shaping my understanding of how old my children are, while Squish could be forever shaping my understanding of how young my children are.

Even though I spent a lot of time today thinking about how Squish is a True Squish: a baby who snuggled in a carrier; cuddled in my arms; or slept on my chest, now Squish is laughing [sometimes at his own jokes]; singing songs;  making silly faces; cruising around the apartment; looking for ways to get Bug's attention; playing the tambourines/triangle/cymbals [thank you, extended family --- you know who you are]; babbling; eating chalk; opening and closing doors; unrolling all of the toilet paper into a delightful pile on the bathroom floor; finding the small window of opportunity when Bug has walked away from a toy and totally going for it; waving hellos and goodbyes; burying his head in my shoulder out of sheer excitement; and, best of all, giving sweet Squish kisses.

Happy First Birthday, my little dearheart.  I am so proud of you and feel so, so lucky to be your momma.







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