Lovie, you turned one year old yesterday. Given that your festivities took place on Saturday, your actual birthday seemed fairly anti-climactic in comparison… at least it might’ve from the outside looking in.
You and I, though, we like the mundane, the routine, the down time. While I admittedly get tired, I never get tired of you.
So what’s a one year old Bennett like?
Well, I’m pleased as punch to say that you’re still nursing! What a blessing (I often thank the Lord for this, especially when I drop my nose a bit to nuzzle in your soft, strawberry hair). No, you don’t seem to be guzzling as much milk as you used to, but we still get that connection about four times a day. I’m going to mention this just in case it slips my mind later, but you are too funny when you’re nursing! As you’re laying on your side, whichever leg is on top at the time seems like it’s suddenly filled with helium, lifting and swaying around. That is, of course, if I’m lucky enough to keep you on your side. Now that you’re older and stronger… well, let’s just say that what YOU find comfortable in terms of nursing reminds ME of the ever restless hands on a clock; always centrally anchored, but round and round they go. And if you’re not squirming around, you’re trying to stuff your fingers in my mouth.
Babe, I think you learned how to drink from a straw today. Granted, you might’ve forgotten about an hour later, but then you remembered again. These things take time.
Not sure if you’re sports bound or not (in this family, that might be a miracle), but you’re getting better at propelling a ball forward or, if nothing else, at least dropping it in front of your feet. That seems to be preferred to accidentally releasing it behind your back every time.
Yesterday marked your first, true ice cream indulgence. Mommy doesn’t mind letting you carry on in this manner as she and Daddy made the ice cream themselves! (Cream, arrowroot powder, maple syrup, vanilla, egg yolk.) You’re welcome! Of course you are!
Hmmm… What else is my one year old baby doing?
Well, for starters, you’re getting the pediatricians all bothered about your weight. There must’ve been some sloppy measuring going on at your old pediatrician’s office, ’cause this new one, based on your charts, didn’t think that you had gained ANY weight in the last three months! HA! Buddy, between the diapers, jammies and onesies that we’ve had to size up, I highly doubt that that’s accurate. Even your feet look bigger.
I dunno, babe. They must be crazy. You’ve definitely gotten bigger. Sometimes I see it overnight. Given your genetics, you probably won’t even make average in terms of weight and height, but you sure are thriving and developing regardless.
In terms of coordination, few things make you happier than pushing buttons. The fan button, the remote buttons, the cd/radio player’s buttons in the kitchen… If it looks like a button, you’ll push it. If it’s guitar strings, you’ll strum them. If it’s a xylophone, you’ll plink it.
Oh, dear three-toothed Bennett, what a blur this year has been. From reading to you to letting you turn the pages, from carefully dicing a peach to letting you manhandle Daddy’s cornbread, from watching you grin in your infant sleep to digging my fingers into your chest and forcing belly laughs out of you, this life has been the gift that I’ve been unwrapping every day since you were born.
You. Are. A. Gift.
God knew it before I did.
How generous he’s been to us!
Love you lots,