It’s hard to believe that it’s been over a year since you joined our little family after two hours of easy and joyful labor. So much has happened since that day in Snohomish, WA when your broad shoulders got stuck and you stubbornly made your exit without a peep. Reading your birth story again this morning left me smiling and crying at the same time – what a beautiful day. When we sold our house in the fall, as we drove away with you babbling happy noises from the backseat, my eyes welled up with tears as I thought about that little room where you and your brother were both born, and how we may never step foot in it again. Giving birth to you and Dylan have been the best days of my life and the best things I have ever done…and I can’t believe that an entire year has passed.
I want to hold on to every single little piece of you while you’re this tiny little person. That tuft of hair on the back of your head that simply can’t be tamed. The way you walk little a little zombie, unsteady on your feet with your arms outstretched. The way you snuggle into me with a giggle when you first wake up in the morning. The way you refuse to wear shoes of any kind. The grace you have with your big brother. You big goofy grin that builds oh-so-slowly and then takes over your entire body and ends with a happy squeal. That little bit of fat that you’ve had on the back of your neck since the day you were born. Your fascination with exploring – with being outside unencumbered and with climbing anything in sight. Your love for all kinds of food, and your bottomless pit of stomach that leaves us constantly worried that we’re overfeeding you.
A few weeks ago you simply decided to stop breastfeeding, and I wasn’t ready. One morning we were snuggled up together enjoying nursing, and by that afternoon you were simply shaking your head in refusal and trying to open the refrigerator door instead. I miss it so much every single day, and I know it’s just the first step of many that you’re going to take as you gain your independence and continue to grow into the perfect little man that you’re becoming. You are so different than your big brother. Such your own person. You get upset when we try to help you up the stairs, but you need to be coddled when you fall down them…
You are 100% go-with-the-flow, I’ll hang out in my carseat all day on long drives and be happy, I still need you to rock me to sleep at night, the only word I say is “mama” and I say it a million times a day, I flirt with all the old ladies at the grocery store, happy little man. You bring our family so much joy and love, and we are so thankful that you are ours. Happy belated first birthday, Little Trev.