Misty With Iggy

HR doesn't turn one until next week, but we're celebrating his birthday this weekend and every time I think about it, I feel like I've got something in my eye. Dust or something. Fine, I'm a hormonal Mama, but I think I've earned it. It's so crazy to think about him being a year old. Everyone tells you it goes by in a flash and when you're in the depths of thrush or teething or whatever you're hoping will pass, it's an eternity. But now I look back at pictures of him at three months, five months, eight months... he's changed so much, I can hardly remember those times though I know I've enjoyed them. And this is the best so far, he's got such a personality! I'm aware it's only going to get better, and go quicker. Whatever "they" tell you about the first year of a baby's life, even if you don't believe it at the time, it's true.

This time last year, when I was waiting for the baby to be born, when I was sure he was going to be a girl and we were still calling him Pablo because he was due on Cinco de Mayo, I wrote, "What I take away after all this indulgent navel-gazy-processing is that, as we bring Pablo into a downright heartless world, he or she is going to be born with a leg up just because of this community of love into which I myself was born. The best I can do is perpetuate it, and hope I'll have somehow influenced the little one to do the same as she grows."

It comforts me to read that and not have changed my mind about it in the least. Because in the back of my mind I'm always concerned that I'm doing everything wrong, from what I feed him to the way I put him to sleep to whether he's exposed to too much TV to however he's dressed for the weather. The parental fail button is forever in my mind's eye, ready to be pushed. But I never, ever worry about how much he's loved or shown he's loved, from Mike and me or from the rest of the families we're part of that was mainly a matter of luck when we were born. Neither of us has ever questioned that we were embraced and protected by those who were supposed to embrace and protect us. And that HR's turned out to be one jolly elf of a baby boy so far, I figure if we just keep getting that part right, we've got some leeway in terms of getting anything else wrong. I just have to keep reminding myself of that when I'm cycling through the ways I've screwed him up on any given day. We've got ourselves a happy, healthy soon-to-be toddler and we couldn't be more grateful, more overjoyed. I didn't think I could be any happier than when I got this guy

And then he turned into this guy and totally proved me wrong.

This next week is going to be a weepy one, you've been warned. But that said, I just downed a huge, strong iced coffee and I'm riding an excellent buzz. If I were alone in my office, I'd crank this up and shake the ants out of my pants.