happy birthday, my little heart melter!

Dear Rowan Skye,

Today you are one. I can't believe that you can reach the third shelf of the bookcase, that you take baby steps all by yourself when you're not thinking about it. I can't believe you've been with us for a whole year. I can't believe you've been with us only one year. How can you be so new and so forever at the same time? You'll surely hear me talk about the exquisite uselessness of time in the years to come. I hope I can sometimes express it with a semblance of wonder.

You love opening and closing your books while sitting on my lap. I keep reading even after you've clapped the pages shut on my fingers. You love emptying items from anything and tossing them behind you. And you love opening your drawers and cupboard in the kitchen and clacking the measuring cups together.

Your diaper tantrums are a huge part of our lives. Sometimes it's hard not to laugh, because it's such a stereotypical tantrum--head moving side to side, arms and legs flailing alternately. It makes me appreciate the easy changes, when your body's lithe and I can snap the diaper on evenly. I'm always surprised when my singing actually calms you. And so often it does.

Mommy doesn't remember the lyrics to almost anything. You are my sunshine has tons of verses, where the color of the sky varies. In mommy's version, you never go away. 

You have always loved the ceiling and lights and looking up. This hasn't changed much since you were born. Now, too, you love disco balls. When you want to get closer to something, you say woooo ooowa oooowa and wave your hands. Balloons make you go a little crazy.

You love the swish swish wind in the trees and eating Mantego cheese. You love going for walks in the baby carrier and for strolls in the jogging stroller. You love sneaking up on yourself in the mirror, walking around the house by pushing the giant exercise ball. You love to nurse, to be tickled, to look at the world upside down. 

When you wake up, you pat my face and giggle before I can manage to pry my eyes open. You pull yourself up on the bars of the headboard, shake the blinds, and talk to the sunshine. When Daddy comes to get you, because somehow he's almost always already awake, you give the hugest smile and point at him with your wrist.

I love the way you use your tongue to bluther bluther bluther talk. The big open mouth kisses you give me on your way to explore something else. I love the quick succession of crawl steps when you decide to chase something you want. I like how you crawl up my legs, just as I'm starting to chop something for dinner. How when I pick you up, you make me take you to say swat your disco ball or hello the mantel mirror. I love you, big boy.

Thank you for choosing me be your mom.