you are one

My dearest Graham,

You are one.  One whole year.  I remember holding you at just a few hours old, with your legs tucked under your belly in the typical infant fashion and wonder at what point did you find it comfortable to sprawl out while you sleep.  At just a few days old, I remember crying when a friend informed me that you had changed so much since your birth day.  I made it a point to study your face, the creases in your eyes, the curvature of your lip, and your hair line.  I was adamant about remembering your tiny, fresh face from memory alone - not from pictures.  But I'm not sure if that's possible.  Now that you are one, I remember your fresh newborn face and wonder if it's from memory or pictures of you.  Nevertheless, when another friend came to visit you for the first time, she reminded me to savor those moments of new life because life ticks by like the hour hand on a clock....it's continually ticking away but you just don't see it.  I think back to this first year and the milestones you have accomplished.  At the time, I'm grateful I didn't know when the last time I swaddled you, the last time you spit up all over me, the last time I burped you, the last time we napped together with you on my chest.  I think things happen this way for a reason.  For if I knew at the time that these moments were the last, I know I would have cried my way through your first year.

Speaking of crying, you really have this mastered.  You're the kid that wants what he wants and he wants it right now.  You've kept me on my toes and kept me from numerous hours of sleep.  We're still battling it out in some areas of life.  For example, I just can't carry your heavy self around on my hip all day but I also can't walk around with you on my feet as you cling to my leg and protest.  As far as sleep is concerned, when I put you down for your afternoon nap my heart races as I run downstairs and see what I can accomplish before I hear you again...maybe an hour, maybe 10 minutes. 

You love your food.  Pasta, eggs, salmon, broccoli, and blueberries make your eyes twinkle.  You are shuffling around furniture and crawl with such gusto I can hear the slapping of your hands on the hardwoods from two rooms away.

I'm in love with you. I'm so proud to be your momma.  I'm so tired from (not of) being your momma.  I wondered how there could possibly be room in my heart to love a third baby just as much as your sister and brother, but I do.  Another part of my heart was given away when I saw your naked body for the first time on that beautiful morning on October 11, 2010.  You'll always have it with you.

Happy first birthday.

Love,

Momma

We celebrated you in grand style.  I made a carrot cake, family and friends all surrounded the table as you innocently swiped your index finger in the frosting and began slapping your cake, and you enjoyed the ribbon and paper more than the gifts inside. 

Let's see what year two brings us!

housekeeping

This girl loves her kitchen.  She'll spend hours organizing her food, dishes, and utensils.  In fact, she always completes this task with folding her washcloth and neatly hanging over the edge of the sink.  Every single time.  It's a daily task (really...daily) and she expects everyone to leave it alone.  William has a difficult time following this rule. It's really amazing how these gender roles develop at such an early age. 

Look out June Cleaver.

pandora's box?

Grace is 4 and has never, ever, ever, I mean, ever slept in our bed.  In fact we've never had one of our kids sleep in our bed or even attempt or ask to crawl in with us sometime during the night.  The thought has never crossed their mind.  Logically speaking, it's all because handy husband and I are such great parents with a keen sense of discipline and follow through.  Or, it's simply because we are no fun.  Zero.  Seriously, what parent hasn't slept with their child?  It's ridiculous.  In our case it's because we never wanted to start down that road.  It's always much more difficult to get back to the other side once you've jumped the fence.

But, I was feeling like snuggling with one of my kids all night.  So, I invited Grace to sleep with us in our bed last Friday night (while her dad was rolling his eyes at me).  She and I went to bed at eight and my intention was stay with her until she fell asleep.  Well, at ten, Koby woke me up as he barged into the room to go to bed.  Apparently, I need more sleep. 

I loved waking up and seeing her beautiful face, incredible bed head, and hearing her scratchy "just woke up" voice. 

Because we're  such great parents, she hasn't even asked to sleep there again.  I'm actually missing it and can't wait to do it again. I've opened myself a Pandora's box.

A picture of our little angel snuggled in her bed a couple of weeks ago when she wasn't feeling well.

Is there room for me, Gracie?