This is your last month to be a “baby”. I’m not ready to tell people when asked that you’ll be one year old next month. You’re my baby, and always will be, no matter how many months you get under your belt.Â I know you have to get older, and I will have to accept it no matter what, but your turning in to a toddler is coming on so fast!
Lately, your dad and I have been thinking back to the day you were born and the weeks prior. This time last year, we were getting ready for our annual beach trip and making plans of how on earth Daddy would go enjoy his week while I had to stay home most of the week and work to save days for after I had you. And when we were at the beach, I was a waddling whale with you in my huge, swollen belly. Daddy had to put my socks and shoes on for me because I couldn’t reach them. And now? We’re getting ready for your first official beach trip ever. You’re going to see the big Atlantic ocean with the whole crew. And I have to say that I’m excited and scared to death all at once. It’s our first big vacation together. Away from home. I’m sure we’ll have a ton of fun though. Oh, which reminds me, we have to stock up on your Gerber puffs… we can’t have you eating the sand!
You’re exploring the house with your new-found confidence and crawling abilities, as well as your ability to pull yourself up into stand. You can get anywhere in no time. Doors to rooms that are not baby-safe are being closed off, and everything else is being baby-proofed on a constant basis as much as possible. I swear, our floor has never been vacuumed this much! Everything must be tasty to you because you find even the most minute thing and shove it into your mouth before we can take it out of your hand. I’m justÂ dreadingÂ the day we find you trying to eat a bug or something and I go into total freak-out mode followed by meltdown phase.
You’re learning now consonants and vowels now, and pretty soon, you’re going to be able to say “mama” or “dada” and “hey” very clearly. You try now, but you know it’s not quiiiiiite right, so you keep saying them. You’re doing great though. I can’t wait to hear you say “mama” for the first time, even though I know “dada” will be your first one since everything is “dadadadadadadadadada ppphhhlllttt” right now.
This week you’ll be going for your first visit to an ENT. I’m sorry buddy, but your ears just don’t want to clear up and stay well, so we’re seeing about having tubes put in to help your ears. It pains me to see you constantly on antibiotics and practically rubbing your ears off because they’re either itching or in pain. I want to make it better for you so bad, so I hope this helps you out.
And, as far as dairy, your body is learning that you can’t have it. How do we know this? Because, though you still break out somewhat, you spew every last thing you ate if you ever get even theÂ tiniestÂ bit in your stomach. People keep saying that it’s a good thing, but somehow, I don’t feel any better about your allergy. Time will only tell if you ever grow out of it. And if you do, please forgive me for the meltdown I’m promising you I’ll have. I’ll probably hug and kiss the daylights out of you (not that I don’t do that now, but you know….).
Baby, I love you sooo very much. This past year – from awaiting the last moments until your arrival until now – have been the best months of my entire life. I never knew having you would bring so much joy into my life. I love you toÂ piecesÂ and nothing will ever change that.
â™¥ to the moon and back,