My little boy turned one last week. And really that’s what he is now, a little boy. He knows what he wants and what he doesn’t want, he knows what he likes and doesn’t like and he knows how to tell us all about it. He has a great sense of humour and loves a good giggle. He particularly enjoys doing fake sneezes and laughing when he burps or farts. Those last two are probably not my best examples of good parenting but it’s still funny. He’s his mother’s son 🙂
He likes cars, throwing balls – actually throwing just about anything he can get his hands on – and chasing. He loves dancing and singing and bops along to any tune that catches his ear. He’s as sharp as a pin and such a fast learner. In the last week, he has adjusted the bolts on the stairgate with his “tools” after watching Daddy install it and put the thermometer in his ear to try to take his own temperature. And then the other day in a fit of temper, he pulled all his cucumber sticks out of his hummus one by one with lightening speed and flung them across the room like a circus performer throwing knives. Oh, he’s a little boy alright.
I struggle with the idea that just this time last year he was a tiny sleeping bundle who I could carry around in one arm and who’s little head was the literally the same size as the breast that was nourishing him. Now his head is so much bigger and my breasts are significantly smaller, although still a pretty impressive silhouette after a long day in the office!
I surprised myself with how emotional I was the day of his birthday. I felt it was a day for me and my husband just as much as for him. It was all just so fresh in my mind, like it was just yesterday. Twelve months have never passed so quickly in my life and what I’m afraid of now is that time will just get faster and faster from here on in. All those wonderful little moments cascading like droplets into the fast flowing river of time. Blink and I’ll be back here posting about his second birthday and the arrival of the terrible twos. Where does the time go?