Lane at Twelve Months
Lane,
You're a year old.
Today I went up to the garage apartment, where we lived when I went into labor. I remembered that early morning and how excited we were, even though I was in pain, to meet you. We were shivering.
Last night I whispered to Colt, "Our birth blew me away and I'm still living in shock." It's true, I don't know how to wrap myself around this, and I've had a twelve month adjustment period rife with "real-life" sleep struggles and other stresses, but you are still a beautiful mysterious being with a beautiful soul. We all know how "how babies are made", but no one knows the moment that human beings are made - that a soul chooses a vessel - that energy condenses into a body.
Yours was crafted by a delicate weaving of our genetic predispositions. From your father's slowness to accept change to my hyperactivity at night, you have shown us clearly this year that you come from us.
We are feeling much better about things than we were around month 5 or 6. I have to constantly calm my expectations. I can't wait for you to do things, like speak an idea. I can see them swirling around. I see how thoughtful you are and know your expressions. I understand how my parents must have always known me down to my core, better than I ever thought they did. They knew my origin as I know yours. I was never fooling anyone.
A year ago today we all went home and slept in the same bed only hours after you were born, no one making a sound. It was the last truly restful night of sleep I've had since. You sweet wrestling co-sleeping breastfeeding baby - i love you. What else can I say-
You use your walker and lapped the house as of yesterday. You bear crawl towards mischief every day, but stop before you get there most of the time to consider if you should partake. I sprint after you from room to room only to find you sitting in front of the dog water hovering your hand over the dish and thinking.
You repeat everything still, can I call that talking? In the repeat category you've said moo, nana (banana), bump, more, duck, yum, today, and a ton of other things. You bark when Zuko barks. On your own though, still no clear and obvious words although when pushing a toy around the house you go "rrrrm rrrrm". You watch the pages when we read books and point to things.
For three days after your birth (before.sleep.deprivation.set.in.) I thought nothing could be as sweet as my own child alive and breathing in my arms, but I see that things just get sweeter, crazier, more beautiful and surreal and complex every day and I am so happy you are in the world, growing up. You baby, you.
To read through other Lane months, visit the month-to-month page.
As always, you can shoot us a vote on Top Baby Blogs by clicking here.
Happy Labor Day!
Today I went up to the garage apartment, where we lived when I went into labor. I remembered that early morning and how excited we were, even though I was in pain, to meet you. We were shivering.
Last night I whispered to Colt, "Our birth blew me away and I'm still living in shock." It's true, I don't know how to wrap myself around this, and I've had a twelve month adjustment period rife with "real-life" sleep struggles and other stresses, but you are still a beautiful mysterious being with a beautiful soul. We all know how "how babies are made", but no one knows the moment that human beings are made - that a soul chooses a vessel - that energy condenses into a body.
Yours was crafted by a delicate weaving of our genetic predispositions. From your father's slowness to accept change to my hyperactivity at night, you have shown us clearly this year that you come from us.
We are feeling much better about things than we were around month 5 or 6. I have to constantly calm my expectations. I can't wait for you to do things, like speak an idea. I can see them swirling around. I see how thoughtful you are and know your expressions. I understand how my parents must have always known me down to my core, better than I ever thought they did. They knew my origin as I know yours. I was never fooling anyone.
A year ago today we all went home and slept in the same bed only hours after you were born, no one making a sound. It was the last truly restful night of sleep I've had since. You sweet wrestling co-sleeping breastfeeding baby - i love you. What else can I say-
You use your walker and lapped the house as of yesterday. You bear crawl towards mischief every day, but stop before you get there most of the time to consider if you should partake. I sprint after you from room to room only to find you sitting in front of the dog water hovering your hand over the dish and thinking.
You repeat everything still, can I call that talking? In the repeat category you've said moo, nana (banana), bump, more, duck, yum, today, and a ton of other things. You bark when Zuko barks. On your own though, still no clear and obvious words although when pushing a toy around the house you go "rrrrm rrrrm". You watch the pages when we read books and point to things.
For three days after your birth (before.sleep.deprivation.set.in.) I thought nothing could be as sweet as my own child alive and breathing in my arms, but I see that things just get sweeter, crazier, more beautiful and surreal and complex every day and I am so happy you are in the world, growing up. You baby, you.
To read through other Lane months, visit the month-to-month page.
As always, you can shoot us a vote on Top Baby Blogs by clicking here.
Happy Labor Day!
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