dearest little heart,
i wanted to write you a letter on the day you turned 11 months. but that was three days ago. and here we are. and somehow it’s apt that i’m running three days late. because that’s how our life rolls lately. almost there, not quite. on the verge of big things and giant opportunities, but all the while being reminded, whenever you catch my eye and break into a smile, that it’s the ‘small’ stuff that matters most. yes, we’re caught in a whirlwind of momentum and movement and good intentions that wait in the wings for the right time. or any time, for that matter. but we are constantly growing and expanding and learning. as individuals and as a family. and it all leaves me a bit breathless.
and here’s what i’ve realized. the people who told me that i could have it all, but that it would be incredibly exhausting, were absolutely right.
our days smudge one into another. weekends begin with your bright eyes staring at us expectantly at 7am. and then it’s another monday morning and i’m not really sure what we did in between. your papa pulls late nights and early starts, and i pack your lunch while constructing emails in my head for the notes i need to give on an edit before a deadline. work meetings take precedence over lunch and before i’ve made a sizable dent in my to-do’s, it’s already time to make the mad dash to pick you up. driving home, i take conference calls from the car and you take off your socks and fling them over the backseat. and somehow, we make it work.
and then we’re home and, understandably, you want my attention. so we sing pattercake and itsy bitsy spider, and you clap your hands and sign for more. more. more. you point to the laptop because you want to watch your favorite music videos – currently coldplay, mumford and sons, and lumineers top your charts. and even though at one point, i had resolved to hold off exposing you to screens until you were over the age of two, i’ve since eaten those words because watching you, watching these videos, is the most adorable thing ever. here’s proof.
i think i’ve mentioned this before, but baby boy, you love food.
your doctor looked at us wide eyed as i explained what you ate for breakfast – half a banana, half an avocado, a bunch of cheese, and a mountain of cheerios. you have a huge appetite and i’ve never given you anything that you’ve spat out or disliked. you actually ate falafel the other day so i’d venture to say your tastes are more adventurous than 70% of americans. we spent last weekend in san francisco and you had your first taste of ice cream. you made a face because of how cold it was and then snatched the spoon from my hands in your frenzy to devour more of it. so much for my resolution to never ever let you have any processed sugar on my watch.
wow, i’m bad at resolutions.
you’re such an easy going and sweet little boy. you have a repertoire of ‘acts’ that you bust out to charm new friends that includes clapping, singing, dancing and when you REALLY need the floor, you pretend to choke on your food and then burst into giggles when we all stare at you with wide eyes of shock and worry.
your latest one-man show is standing up unassisted. the pride on your face when you achieve your balance is so unbridled, that my heart swells and threatens to explode.
and as you’re figuring out your equilibrium on our shag carpet. we’re figuring out our equilibrium as a family. and we have lots to learn, and there’s so much we still don’t know. big stuff – like how to achieve a better balance between our work and the other aspects of our lives. and the smaller stuff like what sort of milk i need to give you now that you’re nursing less. cow? goat? almond? soy? hemp? UNICORN TEARS PERHAPS?
sometimes, as i’m changing your diaper at the end of the day, i’ll let you roll around on our bed in all your naked glory. your papa and i chase you and chomp on your juicy thighs and dimpled rump, and blow kisses on your round belly. you giggle and shriek and helplessly swat us away with your pudgy hands. and after a while, we all tire each other out and collapse as a family and cuddle together. and yes, it’s all exhausting, and it’s true i’ve never worked harder in my life, but it’s in those moments that i know, with certainty, that i have everything i’ve ever wanted out of my life.