One year old

Luke is now one year old.

Little did I know when I met this giant baby boy a year ago how much he would change me. All for the better, of course. Except for the wrinkles, gray hairs and sleep deprivation. But don’t worry, it is absolutely impossible to hold a grudge against this kid. HE’S THAT CUTE.

Yep. That is one charming little person we've created. He has this irritatingly sweet way of being so cute while being a total stinker at the same time, like trying to crawl up the stairs while flashing a toothy smile and cooing, Bah-BAH? Baaaahhh, and then pointing a finger at me. He’s the cutest person in the world, and I’m the one that’s supposed to scold and try to lecture him on why he shouldn’t pull his sister’s hair? That’s just not fair. It’s impossible. I dare you to try it.

And he really is into everything, namely whatever his sister is doing. If Taylor is coloring, he’s dumping over the crayon box. If Taylor’s putting together a puzzle, he’s slapping pieces off the table. If Taylor’s playing her new favorite game, Zingo, he’s snatching bunches of the yellow tiles and spiking them around the room. If Taylor’s trying to fake-style my hair with her new princess styling kit, he’s slapping me in my face with the plastic brush. He just wants to play. And he’s lucky that he was blessed with the best, most tolerant big sister in the world. Really. I hope one day he truly appreciates it, because I know I wasn’t that nice to my little brother.

This past month was a super fun one, even though it began with a double ear infection at the beach. Luke is such a happy guy, that you know something’s wrong when he’s whiny and clingy. And thankfully we got him healed early-on and able to enjoy the rest of the two-week trip to paradise.

But when we went to his one year checkup to get his new stats – 26 pounds, 12 ounces, stretching 31 inches long and big head still totally off the charts – I was totally expecting our pediatrician to send us to an ENT to discuss tubes. But then Luke’s ear were clear and everything looked good. And with springtime and the end of school in our sights, I think we might actually be healthy and happy for a stretch. Hooray!

So he’s still measuring in the 95^th-percentile for weight and height compared to other boys his age. In fact, he’s the size of a normal two year old. Which is probably why I was certain he weighed about forty pounds as I have been carrying his adorable, yet deadweight body around all day and everyday. I am the strongest woman alive. Seriously. I haven’t had to lift weights for over a year. I should lease him out to our local fitness clubs.

And even though Taylor was walking, more like running, everywhere by the time she turned one, I’m totally fine that he’s just crawling still. He can pop himself up on any sort of stable surface, his favorite is any of our toilets, and he has just recently become comfortable standing solo, so I KNOW we’re close. He’s gonna do it at some point. And I’m going to take advantage of a crawler while I’ve got one, because once he starts walking it’s a whole new gameplan. I’m still kicking myself that I was so anxious for him to start crawling and moving. What was I thinking?

So it was a super fun month. Full of action. And the closer we crept to his big birthday, the more I started lamenting how fast the year went and I started getting emotional. Where did my little baby go? And when I brought this up to Chris, he agreed with me and then said truthfully, Um, Brooke. You’ve spent EVERY moment with him this past year. You can think it went fast, but there’s no possible way you could have spent MORE time with him. So stop stressing.

And like many other moments in the past nearly-thirteen years, my husband was right. I can’t complain about it going too fast, because I was lucky enough to be able to stay home and spend everyday, every first-milestone and almost every moment with my son. Not everyone can say that. And I recognize how wonderful that is. And I don’t thank Chris enough for that.

And another reason I feel lucky is that... Well... Luke is sleeping through the night. I KNOW! I almost don’t even want to talk about it in case I jinx it. It got really bad, y’all. We were so close to being done nursing and then we are at the beach with a double ear infection and all sharing a room in a two-bedroom condo with Chris’s parents. He was up at all hours and I couldn’t let him cry, so he would end up in bed with us every night. It was worse than when he was weeks old. And after almost two weeks of this pattern of maybe four hours of good sleep a night, I was about to crack. We’re talking Loco in the Coco. Something had to change. And luckily my parents came into town and Taylor was able to bunk with them in our guest suite and we let Luke cry-it-out. And I was SO tired that it wasn’t nearly as heart-wrenching as I thought it would be. And it took three nights, and then he figured it out. And for the past week we have slept more than we have in the past year. He still wakes up and cries at least once a night, but we let him work it out for a few minutes and then he goes back to sleep. Wow. Big sigh of relief there. I’m still a little nervous talking about it.

So, yep. Just when you thought this kid couldn’t get any cuter, he lets me sleep. Get him a t-shirt:  Best one year old boy in the world.

Oh and it’s about to get so much more fun. I remember this age with Taylor, and with Luke’s smiley personality on top of that smoochable face, we’re in for a good time. So many more firsts in the next twelve months, and I am hoping that now that I’m getting more sleep – wink, nod, knock on wood – that I can fully appreciate and savor every moment coming our way. Because this kid is fun. And I don’t want to miss a thing.