That he was quiet was what I remember most.
That he lifted up his head and looked at us. Or at least in our direction. He made himself comfortable. We took a look and found out who he was. Danielle said his name. And someone, other than the two of us, for the first time heard it and wrote it down. He relaxed. We relaxed. He made strange noises. We freaked out. Then i wrapped him in a towel and held him while other things happened.
Badda Bing, Badda Boom
He can sit up, he can roll over, he can crawl, he gets sick, he gets better, he eats solid food, he gets more milk, then less, and he’s a year old and sprinting around the house behind his rolly cart, he’s banging on the computer while grandparents watch from 500 miles away, he disembowels the cupboards, while i watch videos of him wriggling in his owl chair with skinny legs and socks like bags on his feet.
He’s the rowdy one
The first to laugh. The first to make monster noises and bear hug his cousin, the first to grab crackers off the table. He smiles, he laughs, he cries, he sleeps like a baby. [I thought i knew what that meant.]
He’s one year old today, from right now. 365 days ago he was born. 140 days before that we saw his picture. 140 days before that he was a bunch of cells going nuts. 140 days before that we thought hay, you know what might be fun?
We were right.
Happy Birthday Little Buddy!