I am amazed that a year has passed already. So far almost nothing has gone as planned, but just about everything has come together perfectly.
A year ago we had no idea that we'd be living in MA. We love walking to the beach and having aunties pop by to say hello. A year ago we had no idea that I'd be working from home. It's a lot of work but I love the balance and I never spend a minute in traffic missing you.
I knew that there would be stress but I had no idea that 90 percent of my anxiety, stress, and tears would revolve around sleep: getting you to sleep at night, getting you to sleep during the day, getting you to stay asleep, are you getting enough sleep (yes, finally!), am I getting enough sleep (not even close!) It's a sobering realization that sleep issues in one form or another will probably last for at least a few more years. My eyeballs might sink into my skull by then but eventually, I know, we'll get past it.
When I look at pictures from the year every memory is so vivid - the fear of an unplanned surgery before you were ready to be born, the hours at home sitting in the rocking chair. You becoming stronger and more mobile. And then watching you become this person with so much curiosity and interest and personality. A boy who swats the dogs in the face when they're in his way, who instigates a game of hide and seek, who points at things he wants, who sits and reads himself books.
For as big as you are in some ways, there are other things that remind me that you're still my little guy. I love that you still prefer being carried close to me in the Ergo over getting in the stroller. As if you just want to remind me that you still feel safest when my arms are wrapped around you.
Well, I like to think of it that way anyway.
Happy birthday, son. I love you, I love you, I love you.