My boy is one year old. One.Year.Old. It doesn’t seem like it was really that long ago that he was birthed. It doesn’t seem that long ago that he babbled for the first time, or held his head up, or rolled over.

He talks now. He says, “Cah! Voom voom!” when he sees a car drive by and “agua” when he’s thirsty. He wiggles his head when he’s dancing to music out loud or music in his head. And, not only does he roll, but he ALLIGATOR rolls when you’re trying to change his diaper and the fan is being turned on behind him. To which he yells, “ATS! ATS!” because fan is way too hard to say.

We went to the mountains for his birthday and, while he throrougly enjoyed the toys, the hikes and the hummingbirds flying inches away from his head, he cried when we sang happy birthday. He didn’t like the attention and that made me very glad that we chose to do a small family thing in the mountains instead of a big party at home (and just a little proud that I knew him better than anyone thought I did – score 1 for mama).

He made the following face when touching the cake for the first time:

He is not a fan of sticky. He then proceeded to attempt to knock the offending cake off of his plate with the spoon because there was no way in hell he was touching that mess again.

I am accutely aware of his growing up. I intently listen to every story of all the moms who say, “My son’s 35 now, I can’t believe how quickly it’s gone.” I try to memorize every face, every moment because it’ll never happen again and I don’t want to feel like it all flew by without my paying attention. When he’s a teenager, I want to be able to horrify him with stories about him trying to rip up my shirt in public and trying to nurse on daddy. When he’s grown up, I want to be able to assure him that that poop? That weird, greenish, sticky, stinky, ‘gone 3 days without’ newborn poop is perfectly normal because he had it, and I remember it very clearly. I’m one of those moms.

Happy birthday, Benjaroo. This, I can easily say, has been the best year of my life. Watching you grow is amazing and I am so incredibly blessed to be able to see it all. You’re ever learning and ever changing. You’re moody, you’re testy, you’re stubborn, you’re sweet, you’re silly and you’re incredibly astute. You’re a good baby and I’m sure, before I know it, you’re going to be a good man. I can’t wait to see how you evolve.

Thanks for picking us, kid.