Friday, July 16, 2010
Dear Mac: One Year Old
You are bruised from head to toe. You can't seem to walk for falling. Growth spurt? Although, I tripped and re-broke my baby toe today, dammit. So it's probably genetical.
You are still my 'spirited' child. And by that I mean you throw fits when you don't get exactly what you want. When you're done with something, you throw it. You spend a lot of your day trying to break things. While there was a film crew in our house, we spent the morning at Auntie Sonja and Uncle Giles' and after only an hour you'd almost destroyed the place. While I was cleaning up a collectible they brought all the way back from China, and that you destroyed in two seconds by spiking it like a football, you went after their speakers. When I went to reconnect the speakers, you dialed someone on their phone. When I was scrambling to hang up the phone, you'd locked their TV on some weird display that I couldn't get rid of.
Then we went for a very long walk. Sometimes it helps to strap you down.
But oh, you are adorable. The way you laugh. The way you already make (non-verbal) jokes. The way you still get so excited for nursies and the way you bear-hug the dog. I love hearing the thump-thump-thump of your feet as you follow your dad around the house in the morning, and your exclamations of, 'dih-dih-dih!!!' when you're really on a tear. I like how you enjoy water in all of its forms, even if it's once again forming a sopping river from the dog dish across the kitchen, in which you will inevitably slip before I can get to you.
I am fascinated by your quirks. Like how you didn't cry when you got stung by a bee, but then screamed in total panic when I blew my nose. How you can sleep through a jackhammer and fireworks, but wake up when I so much as step on a squeaky floorboard. How you make a million different combinations of sounds that seem so ripe for language, but then just smile politely while you staunchly refuse to repeat a single word or sign.
I love how your two favourite things are being naked and going outside, and how the combination of both is your idea of sheer bliss. I love how much you adore your cousin and how you stand at the top of the basement stairs yelling for Grandpa. I love how you'd rather do everything yourself. I love how you run when I chase you, lurching and crashing, eyes wide, laughing madly. I love how you belly crawl backwards for a good two feet before you finally hit the stairs to go down. I love how cute you are in your blue summer hat.
In short, I adore you. A year ago I knew I loved you, but it's taken almost the whole year to truly enjoy you, and I'm so glad we get to spend more time together. I'm going to try my damnedest to make it count, even when we have rip-roaring fights. I promise there'll always be cuddles in the end, for as long as you'll let me.
notquiteawake ~ 6:24 AM
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