This time, last year, you were four months old.
In retrospect, it was so much easier to decorate for Christmas when you were four months old, than it has been now that you are almost sixteen months old.
For one, you were FAR less mobile. If I recall correctly, (and I preface with that because post partum hormones and lack of sleep could have made my memory murky) you were not even rolling.
I'm sorry I told on you...there were other babies who had already rolled over, you took your sweet time but, that is just fine my darlin' because, you have excelled in other ways, ways that are your own, because you are Colin.
At four months old, your eyes were still a fathoms deep blue. I mean, the creatures in the deepest parts of the ocean, after seeing your eyes would have been all, "Hey! Did you get any nibbles off of that Whale carcass that drifted down here? Pretty tasty, right? Whaddya say?" You may not get that now but, one day, you might and, you will probably roll your eyes at how much of a dork I am and totally miss how funny and witty I am.
I can only hope that, when you're in your thirties and can appreciate this, you will.
Crossing my fingers but, not my breath. Hey, don't take offense, I NEED to breathe and, twenty-eight years from now is a LOOOOONG time to hold one's breath.
So, your eyes were SUPER blue and, your completely adorable face was shrouded in a halo of pretty substantial baby fat. I have pictures.
I AM SORRY but, I wanted to capture every moment.
I know I suck or, whatever venacular the "kids" are using in your day. If you don't know what venacular means, PLEASE...LOOK IT UP or, *shudder* and God forbid, ask me.
Whichever way you choose to see it, your adorable baby plump and newness was mesmirzing.
Before you get offended because I wrote, "was" I just want to say, I love you.
I love you so much that, sometimes, it scares me. Not because you're some weirdo or, i'm some weirdo, (which is FAR more likely) but because if I ever lost you, if we ever lost each other, my heart would die.
There, I said it.
I can just see you rolling your eyes and saying, "SHEESH MOM!".
When that day comes, I sincerely hope that I will be able to smile at you, laugh inwardly and then go on in my life like those words didn't crucify me down to my soul.
How is THAT for Mom guilt?
Buwah, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!!
But, no. Seriously. Your first Christmas was paramount in my life. A page in my book that I keep the most holy, sacred and loving of bookmarks.
Don't get me wrong, your first Christmas was HARD on me and, hard on you. I was post partum hormonal (the agony of how long it went on for!!!) and you were cranky cause I was cranky. Your Father hacked at the Christmas tree in all of his frustration from MY hormones, your crankiness and the lack of sleep and...um...marital activites he was not getting.
I have not yet put in an application for sainthood for your Father and, I doubt that the Catholic church would cannonize him BUT, he DOES deserve it, mark my words love.
Not because of you though...no, not because of you, love.
When I remember your first Christmas, who you were, I remember how I didn't think you were that tiny but, you were.
I remember putting you in the Sleepy Wrap, forward facing, directing your Dad as he decorated the tree. I remember how we put you, bare naked, on top of a rubbermaid tub, covered with a festive throw blanket and, tied a gossamer red ribbon around your soft middle, a gift.1
The knowledge of your being came so fast, so suprisingly, it was as your Dad and I spent the following eight months of your gestation trying to catch our breath, to come to terms with the fact that YOU were going to be here.
We were dancing a waltz, breathless, terrified, excited.
We laughed and cried with joy as I helped you come into this world from my body.
Flashes of your birth, your tiny body on my chest, scooping you into my arms for safety and comfort, because I am your home, needing you as much, if not more, than you needed me. Snuggled and cradled in the Boppy Chair, fuzzy hair, tiny onesies, little socks that look like shoes. I became a mental photographer, capturing your absolute sweetness, framing you in the light that streamed from the window at all hours of the day, not caring that one day you'll snort at me because I have done so.
At Christmas, I took pictures of you and, some of me and your Dad with you. We have video. You tasted your first solid food, applesauce and, you made a face like, "SHEESH MOM! What the heck was THAT? Horrible stuff, I tell you! HORRIBLE!" but, you were good natured about it.
On Christmas day, all you cared about was the paper, as I suspect you will for the next couple of years and, while I did not appreciate that in it's fullness at the time, I am SO on your level, little one. Paper is totally awesome and, boxes that you can fit into and make your own, ROCK! (I know what i'm talking about here. I spent a lot of my childhood in cardboard boxes that doubled as houses, spaceships, resturants and all around safe and comfortable places to be.)
This Christmas, you might pay more attention to the stuff you get. At least for five minutes or so, before you're into the next thing.
You're much taller, less chubby and a lot more curious and adventerous. I DIG that about you, like, A LOT and, you know what? I know you love me. I love you. It's much more than just writing it and, we know that, don't we? We're best friends, pals. We hang out every day together. You are my every day, and I am yours. We are thick as thieves, you and I and, I eat it up.
Sometimes, it bugs but, it's okay. One day, i'll bug YOU and we'll be even steven but, for now, we're two peas in the most green and gorgeous of pods.
You've been remarkably unconcerned with our tree, only caring about the skirt, because I put it down under the tree while you were watching and, you wanted to "help".
I won't dare put any presents under the tree because, you are delightfully curious and tenacious and, you just don't get the whole thing about presents and, you won't for quite awhile and, I don't expect you to stay away. We don't dig the whole yelling thing and, cause you're you, you totally get the "please" shtick but, you have limits and, I totally respect that, just like I respect you.
God, I love you Colin.
I get scared out of my mind that i'm going to let you down in big ways but, if you weren't up for having me and your Dad as parents, if you didn't have faith in us, if you didn't know our hearts and souls and our capabilities for good, love, kindness, integrity, paitience, didn't know our limits, you wouldn't have come to us or, come to us when you did.
This morning, I had a dream that told me to have faith and, all would become clear. I wasn't told what to have faith in but, I take it as having faith in all.
I have faith in you, just like you being in our family shows you have faith in me and your Father.
We love you too.
Merry Christmas my darling bean.
You being here, being who you are, sharing your life and love, is so very precious to me.
Wherever You Are, My Love Will Find you,
Time makes you bolder
2 months ago