A letter to my son on his first birthday

My beautiful baby boy,

Exactly one year ago today your daddy and I got to meet the perfect little baby who had been nestled all snuggly in my womb for the previous nine months. It’s unbelievable to think that a full year has gone by and our little baby is becoming a little boy.

I have to wonder how you even know what your name is at this point but you turn around when someone says it (at least when you feel like it). Daddy and I have lots of nicknames for you – Bootie Butt, Bootie, Poop, BP, Munchkin, Stinkbutt, Soo Soo (I don’t know where I got this one from), Peanut, Luvalump, Bubba, Monkey, and a few thousand others. It took us basically the full nine months of pregnancy to pick your name, so you would think we might actually use it more often.

You have a great temperament, getting involved in the action when you’re good and ready. Until then, you usually just sit back and soak everything in. You’ve got your mom’s serious expression, which Daddy likes to call our “science face.” You’re a charmer, with really expressive eyes, and you know when to pile the cute on. Big-time. You get excited about things easily, which makes us laugh. When you get really excited about something, you flap your arms up and down and move your feet about 100 miles an hour.

You are a seriously picky eater, Brendan. I’m having visions of you at 30 years old, blending all of your food down to purees while your significant other gives me the ole stink eye because I didn’t nip this problem in the bud when you were a bambino. Daddy is in charge of feeding you dinner every night and he is SUPER patient with you. He’s got a whole repertoire of antics reserved just for dinnertime. You do like sliced banana though, and of course Cheerios and Puffs. Which you sometimes prefer to use as weapons rather than food. I’m trying to be optimistic and think that this pickiness will pass and you’ll come to love food just as much as your mama.

And the love you have for your mama, oh my goodness! I wish I could bottle it and save it for down the road when you’re a teenager and you think I’m embarrassing and just want me to go away. Remember, moms have feelings too so take it easy on me kiddo. In return, I’ll try not to embarrass you. Too much. Not that you don’t love your daddy too. You definitely do, lots. But you’re a mama’s boy and I eat it up.

You’re a pretty good sleeper. In general, you sleep like a log much like your father. Somehow you fail to hear the loud snoring (that would be your dad) and my flipping and flopping about all night. Sadly, I’m not a sound sleeper. I still get up frequently throughout the night to make sure you and Daddy are still breathing (when he’s not snoring) and that you didn’t figure out how to fling yourself over the side of the crib since the last time I checked. Your preferred sleeping position is on your belly, with your adorable rump sticking up in the air.

You’re a morning person, like me. Only you’re much more chipper than any human being has the right to be at the ripe old hour of 6 o’clock. (Which is a lot more reasonable than the previous wake-up time of 4:30 when you first started sleeping through the night.) You usually wake up and start chatting away to yourself about some nonsense that no one but you can understand. I’ll stealthily open one eye to check on you and see you sitting up with your head smushed between the crib slats just dying for one of us to wake up and play with you. It makes me giggle every time.

Brendan, my angel, your father and I love you to bits and pieces and can’t imagine anyone more special or perfect to be our precious son. We have witnessed so many fun firsts over the last year and look forward to all the firsts yet to come. We are so proud to be your parents.

Love,
Mama


Just for fun, here's a vintage pic of B from the day he was born:



Brendan is ONE YEAR OLD today!