One day when you read this blog, you’ll wonder where I was for the first year of your life. Then another day, when you have your second child, you’ll understand.
Ty, for months I have been wanting to write this post. We love you so much. You are hilarious. We have now learned if we want to predict our kids’ personalities, we should write down all observations at three months old, and then reverse them. You once seemed so calm and easy-going! Now we now not to plop you down anywhere and just walk away, that you fake-cry when mom walks in the room, that when you’re sure you’re starving at 3 am, we should just give up and feed you. We know you have no patience for waiting in the pack-n-play, for food to be set down, and getting that bottom wiped.
You talk all the time. It started with “Oooooooo!” (volume goes up and down) whenever you got excited. Now you love to say “dad.” You try to say Sam, and no, and bottle. Your little chubby hands clapping, and waving, and reaching so big are the cutest. I love when you sing when we sing and talk back to Sam. Nothing, nothing, makes you laugh as much as Sam. His laugh is funny, his hair is funny, when he hugs (read = squeezes) you it’s funny, when he runs it’s funny. The other day he was throwing a pot holder against the wall and it was SO funny.
I’ve never, ever seen a baby so disinterested in toys. If you can’t bounce it, you won’t touch it. Instead, I pry you away daily from the vaccuum, the china closet, the stairs, the toilet, the trash can, the computer, my cell phone, and the every power adapter we use.
I think you are a lot like your dad. You love taking things apart. You love cords and wires and plugs and anything electric. You aren’t clumsy, and even, dare I say it, athletic. You’re more interested in climbing and crawling and walking than sitting still for too long. And maybe, maybe one day you’ll have his patience.
You are so cuddly and smily and love getting tickled and sung to and bounced and hugged. Everyday I love you more. I’m so glad your mine.