Cognosco

Dear Albie,

I’m not sure when it happened. It seemed like I looked up one moment, and there you were. A little person. A little boy. With needs and preferences and tantrums and opinions and a one-track mind when it suits you. Oh, sure, I know in so many ways you are still a baby. But you are also, now, something else. And it startled me.

This was a big month for you. For starters, you finally figured out how to use a sippy cup. But it had to be the old-school Tupperware kind. All of that leak-proof valve stuff just baffles you. But you finally figured it out and you tip it straight up in the air, chugging your beverage, as if you were some melodramatic drunkard consuming a bottle of bourbon.

You have started eating with a spoon. And you do a pretty good job. You still have a hard time scooping food up, but no problem getting it into your mouth (and up your nose). We walk a fine line between me letting you figure it out and watching in horror as all of the furniture and curtains are covered in apple sauce. I don’t have the patience for that. If you want to use food as body paints, I’m okay with that. But please spare the curtains. What have they ever done to you?

We introduced raw goat milk into your diet in the last few weeks. I have had more and more trouble pumping, and so it’s really nice to have an alternative when I’m not around. You seem to be doing well with it, which is a relief. I tried to cut out your dream feed, but you weren’t having it. You’re down to two really big nursing sessions a day (first thing in the morning and the dream feed), and a few little nips throughout the day.

Speaking of milk, there is a certain sound that you make when you are about to nurse that is something like a chipmunk making a Butthead (as in, Beavis and Butthead) laugh. It’s really cute, and in the last month, you have started to use it for other things you are really excited about. Sometimes this is a food item, but it is often also a new toy, or one of your stuffed Tiggers (we bought several online, none of which turned out to actually be the same as your FAVORITE Tigger). It is that sound that I will probably miss the most as you develop more language skills to express your desires.

You have yet to sprout any new teeth. You’ve got four on top, and still just two on the bottom. It seems as if you are starting to cut your upper molars. I have no idea where the rest of your bottom teeth are or when they will make an appearance.

You also had your first haircut this month, just a few days before your birthday party. The very top patch of your hair never fell out and regrew like the rest of your hair. So, technically it was still the same hair you had at birth, which is why it took me so long to cut it even though it reached your nose and was always in your eyes. Cutting your hair changed your entire countenance. You look like a radically different person. You look like a little boy. That might be part of the reason I was so startled to look at you and see suddenly see someone else.

You have developed a real fondness for Dan Zanes. Watching a video of a Dan Zanes song elicits about the same response from you as watching Muppets perform. It must be the hair. You are still a big fan of all things Thom Yorke, and seem to also really like The Flaming Lips. I am quite impressed with your impeccable taste for music. Lately, you will sometimes bounce or sway when you hear music, and it seems you are trying to dance. Once you are a little more steady on your newly walking feet, I’m gonna encourage that as much as I can.

Oh yeah, you started walking in the last 10 days or so, and also trying to scale the furniture. It had been a long time since you had taken your first steps, and then you really didn’t seem to be interested in going any further. Then BAM, you took, like, twelve steps. I don’t know where that came from, but you just put it all together and took off. And are now setting your sights on vertical challenges. I find myself on the verge of a panic attack just thinking about how many things there are to climb in this house.

You had your first sugar overdose at your birthday party—orange cupcakes with lemon buttercream frosting (made with goat milk and goat butter—so, so, sooooo good). You love citrus, but are still too young to have much of it, so I made you a tangy cake. You loved it and so did I. You exhibited far more self-control than I did with the leftovers. That’s probably just because you can’t reach the counter yet. You could also call your birthday party, technically, your first kegger. Because there was keg there for all of your adult friends, of which there were many. I think you have more friends than I do. Must be your great conversation skills…

Speaking of keggers, you also puked for the first time this month. We were at one of your daddy’s coworker’s birthday parties. It was Kelly’s birthday—she loves you to death and buys you lots of stuff and we were really only invited to come along as your chaperones. I don’t know if it was the introduction to goat milk, too many unpureed greens, cilantro in the rice, or just the fact that I was turning you upside down and jiggling you. But you puked. Now I know exactly how different vomit and spit-up really are. And for a moment, I thought to myself, ‘oh man, someone has to deal with this‘. And then I realized,’oh shit, it’s me‘. I had to deal with it. I was covered in vomit. And in that moment I felt so much like a mother.

On the actual day of your birthday (also known as Valentine’s Day), I had to go to school for the afternoon. I was walking back from lunch around the actual time you were born. I looked down at the time on my cell phone, and it was 3:21, and I thought to myself, wow, this is about the time that we realized he was stuck. And as I walked, I realized just how long 3 minutes is. You can cover quite a distance on foot in three minutes. And I was thinking about your birth and the events leading up to your birth in a very cerebral, detached sort of way. But when the clock changed to 3:24, I had luckily just stepped inside my office, because I spontaneously burst into tears. I was acutely aware of how easily we could have lost you that day, and what a miracle the beginning of a life truly is. I was so happy you were born exactly a year ago, and I could remember what you smelled like and what you felt like and I was overwhelmed with joy. I am so lucky to know you and to have the privilege to hang out with you and watch you grow.

And as I watched you play a few days ago, it suddenly occurred to me that you will, hopefully, live beyond me, and that I won’t get to see you as an old man as your life comes to an end. I was filled with a great sense of sadness because I realized that we usually only get to see a life begin, or watch it end, but not usually both. And when we do see both, it is an even greater tragedy. I can’t explain exactly how this realization made me feel, but it is a feeling I haven’t been able to shake. A feeling of being cheated because I won’t get to see how it all turns out. A feeling of being swallowed by things much greater than I. A feeling of powerlessness. A feeling of sorrow. A feeling of appreciation for all things precious. A feeling of restlessness. A feeling of peace. The feeling I have is all of these things. And I realize that these same feeling sum up my feelings as a mother. It is these feelings that I have stumbled through and grappled with in the last year, which are slowly being replaced with more and more moments of joy and laughter and fun without concern for what “else” I should be doing. I may not get to see how it all turns out, but what I get to see now is simply amazing.

Things that make you giggle wildly:

• Belly kisses
• Blowing on your toes or feet (he-he)
• Making fake sneeze noises (“ah-choo”)
• Making random animal noises (dog, chicken, turkey–the goofier the better)
• Chasing you around the house
• Just about anything if you’re tired enough…

Things that piss you off:

• Sometimes, the belly kisses
• Pretty much anything involving boundaries or the word ‘no’
• Having your face wiped off
• Diaper changes
• Just about anything if you’re tired enough…

Things I have learned:

• Life is short. Period.
• A year takes on a completely different meaning when it is a year of your child’s life.
• And yet, three minutes is a really long time.
• It is much easier to give your child a few drawers of stuff in the kitchen to play with rather than keep him out of the kitchen entirely.

• Thinking about what you "should" be doing all the time is a great big waste of time. If you have one "should" to pick, it "should" be playing with the baby.
• The housework really can wait.
• Out of sight out of mind is perfectly acceptable as a cleaning strategy.
• The number one advantage of exclsive breastfeeding–virtually smell-free poop for the first 6 months.
• It really is a whole new ballgame once your child is mobile.
• There is little or no correlation between your older baby’s favorite food today, and the favorite food tomorrow.
• Made-from-scratch cupcakes are actually more expensive than mixes or bakery purchases. Oh, wait, they also have way less crap in them (unless you consider butter and sugar crap–I consider them indulgences). And even though they are more expensive, they are so freaking worth it. I wanted to take a flipping bath in the buttercream frosting.
• I really should remember what my mom taught me and always add an extra egg to baked goods. She claims it makes them more moist. I’m pretty sure she’s right.
• When making potato salad, DON’T FORGET ABOUT YOUR BOILING POTATOES. We know have a freezer bag full of essentially, mashed potatoes and carrots. We call it "potato soup base", also known as "way overboiled potatoes". Damn potatoes.
• It’s okay to ask for help.
• It’s more than okay to ask for help–it’s downright admirable.
• Things are much easier once you stop trying to impose your before-baby schedule, habits, routines, and standards on your post-baby life.
• Take your vitamins. Really. Just do it.
• Some days, you just have to say fuck it. About everything. Except keeping the baby fed, changed, and alive.
• Sleep deprivation really makes people crazy. C-R-A-Z-Y Crazy.
• All the crazy is worth it.

 If you had some choice in the matter, thank you so much for picking me as your mama.

I love you so much, little Gondas.

Happy, happy birthday! 

Love,

Mama