You are 11 months old. We are 12 days away from your first birthday. I wanted to write this blog to my baby. In a few short days you will be considered a toddler. Even though, no matter how you dislike it, you will always be my baby. To the world, you are growing. You are becoming more like the kid you will be and much less like the baby Daddy and I brought into the world about 1 year ago. I have so much I want to say to you in this letter.
About 2 weeks ago, I was at my breaking point with worry for you. Frankly, I need to have my internet disconnected. There is just too much information at my finger tips and I think I would have been better off in a simpler time. Where babies were born and they grew. They did things when they did them. If there was a problem, the doctor told you. Not the internet. I digress. Momma was worried about you. You weren't meeting mobility milestones the way I thought you should be and the way "every other baby except you" was meeting. So, I told your dad (who thought I was overreacting) and we made an appointment for my peace of mind. I answered several questions about how you get around (or didn't) and that you relied on me for standing up, you weren't crawling, etc. The doctor listened to my answers and came to the following conclusion: I am a helicopter parent. OH MY! Basically, I needed to leave you alone! If I was always there to pick you up when you cried or stand you up when you were bored, well, how will you ever learn to do it on your own? I was given strict orders to cease and desist. If you wanted me to pick you up, then you needed to find a way to get to me. Well, guess what? 10 days later you are pulling up on your own and crawling (well, crawl/scooting). I've never in my life been so glad that something was 100% my fault.
You are saying a few words now, too. Dada (you love dada!), dog, HEY!, and occasionally mama. Very occasionally.
I feel very ambivalent about your first birthday. On one hand, its all very exciting. Dad and I survived the first year of parenthood with minimal scars. We've learned a lot about each other and how to handle complex life situations. You are learning more everyday and becoming mobile and we long to see the next thing you will do. To see you walk. To hear you talk. To take you to Disney World. All of those things are coming and we can hardly wait to experience it. But, on the other hand, I will miss my baby. Gone are the days when I could hold you for hours and you were content like that. Gone are the days when my arms could stand to hold you for hours :). I will never get to hear you coo or experience your first smile or laugh again because those are memories. In one aspect, I wished those days away. Small babies are a difficult labor of love. There wasn't a whole lot, in my opinion, that was a whole lot of fun in infancy. Now that those days are behind us, I realize just how precious they were. Sometimes, I long to have them with you again.
Your MiMi has always told me that no matter how old I am, I will always be her baby. She still calls me her baby. I'll be 25 next week. I'm, of course, not a baby. But I understand this now. No matter where you are in life. 12 months, 12 years. Young man, old man. You are my baby. I'm thankful for your life. I'm grateful you were given to me to keep watch of. To protect your innocence. To raise. To love. My love for you comes without condition. No matter where you are or what you choose in life, I will love you. When things are good or when things are bad. When I agree with your life choices and even when I don't. I will love you because I'm your mother and you are a part of me. I'm thankful to God for a mothers heart.
Here is a picture of what you look like right now. Exceptionally cute, of course.
walking around the house with mom
at old macdonalds farm with dad
Nobody loves you like I do.
Love,
Momma
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