Pitman Photography

Thursday, September 6, 2012

A Letter to My Son, On His First Birthday

My sweet baby boy turns one tomorrow. One year, 365 days, old.  It’s hard to believe at times it’s already been a year.  I was told by several people to cherish every day. “Time goes by so fast” they would say. Little did I know, it would be so true. I admit, some days were definitely hard to “cherish” but then I’d get a smile or a giggle right before bedtime and I would forget what a rough day we just had.

I clearly remember our time in the hospital before Rowan was born.  It’s like a movie that I can rewind and fast-forward in my head. I hope it always stays so clear. I love those memories.
My doctor gave me about an 80% chance of needing a cesarean, but I wanted to try to have a natural birth if possible.  I was induced around 7p on September 6, 2011.  By 8:30 the next morning my body had done nothing in response and the doctor was ready to head into surgery.  By 9:27 that morning Rowan was born!  Everything happened so fast it still seems unreal to me.  And now here we are, almost a year later. 

September 4, 2012 – A letter to my son, for his first birthday.

What an honor it is to know you, Rowan. To be called to be your mom. There is no sweeter name I have ever known, than “mamama”.  You amaze us everyday. You are so smart!  And I think you know it too.  You can say so many words now, both in speech and sign.

You have a hide-and-go-seek Elmo book that you love. It’s the first thing you grab in your sea of toys everyday. You drag it over, hand it to me and grunt. Then we read it. You grunt again. We read some more. And more and more. I have to admit, I’ve hidden it under the couch once or twice. I can only read that book so many times in a day!

You stand up by the record player every morning waiting for me to turn on our music of the day. It’s usually a Slugs and Bugs album. Sometimes it’s music from mama’s phone. Either way, the second you hear the first notes you grin and start dancing.  I’m not quite sure where you get your cheery morning disposition. Certainly not from your parents!

Here are some of the things you love:

Bowls, spoons, forks, and straws. You love to stir. You’ll even stir with a comb if it’s all you have!

Your baby pool. You stand on your tiptoes and look out mommy and daddy’s bedroom window to see it. You say, “poo, poo, poo” over and over until I respond.

Balls. You love anything in the shape of a circle. It’s all a “ball” to you. You have this huge beach ball in the living room you love to kick and shake around.

Fitting things into other things. You sit there with your tongue sticking out, concentrating on trying to fit your fork in the teeny tiny hole of your cup.

Baths. You love them. You start panting and bouncing up and down when we run the water and try to swing your leg over the tub to get in.

Bubbles. You chase them with your eyes and try to grab them with your hands while sitting in the same spot. They’re round, so of course you call them “balls”.

Our phones. You love to watch YouTube videos of Elmo or Tractor, Tractor and Bears, Bears. You love to grab them and “run” away from us giggling. When we take them back you sign “please” and reach for them again.

You know where your shirt, toes, hands, fingers, diaper and teeth are.  You know where the light and fans are too. You can say ball, bowl, muffin (mah), blanket (bee), mama, dada, pool, see, and what’s that (wassat).

You know how to sign more, please, thank you, sorry, nurse.

You are taking several steps at a time now, but still prefer to crawl.

Daddy and I still stand over your crib at night before we go to sleep. To kiss your cheek, touch your head, whisper goodnight.

You mean so much to us.

We thank God for you everyday.

I read this quote the other day and thought of you, “I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it” E.E. Cummings.

Love you lots, Bug.


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