One Year Old: Rotten

Dear Rotten,

Most days I can't remember what life was like before you. It has faded into a blurry former reality. I can't picture our family without you here. I do remember though, in the months before you were conceived, a time when my health went out the window, forcing me to slow down and let go of a lot of things. I wonder some days if that was you, yelling from the other side "It's my turn! I'm ready!" Now, when you see Daddy and me playing with Stinky, you can't stand to be left out, so you rush over with your full-speed crawl to join in.

At one year old, you are playful and willful, coy and funny. You love nothing more than to tease us, but it makes you so mad when you don't get your way. I wonder where that stubbornness could be from? We'll say it's from your dad. You love being chased, books, tickles, ducks and open doors. You hate to be restrained, left out, or put to bed. You are a chow hound and refused baby food as soon as you realized we had something different. You're not sleeping through the night yet, which is hard sometimes. Maybe soon?

I can see the wheels in your head going non-stop. You discovered the foot stool the other day, and that if you push it places you can reach more things and see out the window better. This is terrifying (both the act, and the intelligence it represents. You sign "milk, food, all done, more, dog," and say "dad, mom, aidan, dog, and duck." Well, you say them clearly enough that we understand. You're a mama's boy, but are finally learning that others can be pretty good, especially your best friend Grandpa Charlie. You really, really adore him.

You are a joy in our family- you've stretched the love we had for eachother, and filled in a part of the family that was missing. Thank you for a beautiful year, for teaching me, for stretching me, and for loving me.