You turned ten months old today. I never used to understood why parents memorialized first moments like first smile or first laugh- why record the mundane? Then I had you and realized nothing about these firsts is mundane. I am witnessing the evolution of a person, the very wonder of parenthood. I haven’t recorded exact dates for most of your firsts but the day you stood for the first time completely unsupported? February 16, 2011. I can’t articulate why this date means so much to me. Will it have any impact on your future presidency, or residency, or writering? No- but I will never forget it- one minute you were sitting and then- knees tucked under legs, you sprung both hands into the air as though ready to take flight- and you stood. You stood. You stood.
You’re growing more interactive, more toddler-like by the day. You still love peek-a-boo but prefer doing the peeking yourself, hiding your head in the crook of my elbow and pulling it out with a cackle overjoyed by our faux-shocked expressions. You’ve kissed me since you were five-months-old, but now? You kiss upon request. We ask, you lean over and give a peck on the cheek and grin as though you’ve bestowed a generous gift- which you have. You also mastered the sippy cup which I personally believe was precipitated by a desire to compete with your new friend Gabriel since the day after you saw him using one was when you used your own the right way- not as a fling toy, or a means to turn any flat surface into a drum, but tipping it back and drinking like a big boy. You loudly let us know when you enjoy a food [scrambled eggs with feta], and turn your head away, annoyed- when you don’t [cauliflower? notsomuch]. So much more like a toddler with each passing day- including that toddler attitude- it too is slowly emerging.
And speaking of preferences and attitude? You are now officially daddy’s boy. Sure, you’ve always loved him- but this month? This is the first month you leapt from my arms into the arms of another- your father’s. Your eyes light up when he walks into the room, you climb him, wrestle him, and I can see already how much you look up to him.
We had friends over for lunch just the other day. Their son looked at you and said It’s hard to imagine I was ever that little. And yet I remember him when he was three-years-old clutching his mother, afraid of the hooting owl in the backyard. It feels like yesterday but it was seven years ago- children are good for putting time in perspective. It’s going to be that way with you isn’t it? I’m going to blink and you’re going to be fully grown looking back at these pictures wondering how you could ever have once been this small. I’m thankful I get to be your mother and bear witness to the rolling, sitting, crawling- and all the walking, talking, and so much more that is yet to come.