My sweet, darling boy.
You are one year old and you are truly a delight.
I can't believe it's been a year since this day . . .
Where I do begin, dear one?
You are the most cheerful boy I know. You are rarely without a smile on your face. You laugh at everything. You enjoy every game, delight in every song, and swoon in any amount of attention you receive. Oh my goodness, are you happy. It puts me at ease to see the joy radiating from you.
Other words that describe you right now (and I am certain will follow you into your teenage years and quite possibly adulthood): headstrong, stubborn, independent, fearless, ruffian, hooligan, brute.
You are quite naughty at times, and even though you know a few of the rules (no standing on the train table! No hitting others on the head!) you are obstinate when it comes to obeying them. You look at me with that twinkle in your eye as you walk towards a child with a book in your hand, and then, as quick as you can, bang him on the head with it and laugh. All while smiling ever-so-charmingly at me. When I tell you "no no, Mason" you will stop for the moment, but will be right back at it the next instant. You are relentless in your pursuits. I hope it will serve you well one day!
Sweet one, I love that you are forthright in your disobedience. You never calculate, manipulate or scheme. You just do. And although it can be challenging to keep up with your level of determination when it comes to undoing things around the house, taunting your big brother and putting yourself in precarious predicaments (like being stuck head first in the toy bin, which literally happened today), I adore that you are still sweet in your naughtiness. After rescuing you from certain demise, or scolding you for pulling Maddox's hair or watching you throw your food on the floor*, you always smile at me as if to say "Mommy! See what I did!" You are always so proud, little one.
*Which you don't do to keep from eating it (like your brother would), rather just to see it fall on the floor. That's an example of how you don't scheme, you just do.
You are fearless. You took your first steps at 9.5 months. Before your first birthday, you were diving headfirst from Maddox's bed onto the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. You can climb the stairs. You can climb anything within reach.You jumped once. By accident. But still. Both of your feet left the floor at the same time. That is physically impossible at your age.You clamber into any open drawer, laundry basket, toy bin. You love to put your head on the floor in a tripod position, and even somersaulted unintentionally one time. But, you are also cautious. You will stand at the edge of the train table and look down, but know enough not to try to get down by yourself. In those moments, you call out to me and I come to your rescue. And you squeal with delight.
Mason, you are alive with personality. Maybe it's because you have an older brother, so I am able to see the ways in which you are different than he more easily, but I feel as if I already know so much about the person you are, the man you will become. I can see his demeanor shining through your baby-ness.
You are a ray of sunshine. I can't believe your first year has already escaped us. The time has slipped by more quickly than I wanted it to, but each new stage you enter is more fun than the last. You are so full of life, and your joy is infectious.
When I think back to our first few moments together, our first moments as mother and son, I remember how beautiful you were, how grateful I was that you were finally here, how peaceful and content you were and how much I thought you looked like your brother. Most of my impressions held true. You still are a beautiful little boy, I am so grateful that you are my son and I cannot fathom life without you, you are still a content little guy, but you don't look much like your brother.
My heart swelled with love that day, son. You are so precious to me. I will always hold that memory dear.
I love you little Mason. More than you will ever understand. You will always have my heart. You will always be my baby. I will always be here for you. I will always, always love you.
Happy birthday, little one.
Mama
The difference a year can make . . .
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