Last day as a baby

I know that this milestone isn't a big deal in a lot of cultures, and I know that tomorrow morning we won't wake up to a strange kid running around our house, screaming for Elmo. We will go into Pax's room and he'll still be the sweet, happy little guy in footie pajamas, sleeping on his tummy with his bottom in the air...just like we leave him tonight. But even though I know all that, this first birthday is hitting me hard. I remember when we decided we wanted a baby and I pictured Jared carrying an infant carseat into Blockbuster with a tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket. I pictured the nights spent rocking him (which ended all too fast) and dressing him in tiny newborn pajamas. I never pictured the adorable blonde toddler...cruising around the living room with tiny OU sneakers. I never pictured the tiny mouth with four teeth squealing for a banana. I love every minute of being his mama, and I love that he's learning to express himself and play and walk. This is by far my favorite age so far. But I also know that just as quickly as this year passed, the next year will too. People always tell you how fast it goes, but I never knew it would be such a blur!






So I will go in his room with a smile in the morning and sing him happy birthday. I will reminisce with Jared about those first few days in the hospital, in our own little bubble, before we knew what a huge responsibility we were taking on. At 7:19 tomorrow evening, I will remember the absolute amazement at his first tiny cries and the pride in myself for birthing a son for my husband. I will remember how carefully Jared handled him when he held him for the first time and how he was absolutely beaming in the first father/son picture. I will remember the looks on our moms' faces as they walked into the room and became grandmothers. I will remember aunts and uncles holding him for the first time and being surprised by how much they already loved him. And I will remember how he was screaming when the nurse first gave him to me, and as I took him he stopped crying and looked at me like he knew me and he loved me.
Then I will ask him for a kiss and he will open his mouth wide and come straight for my puckered lips. His little hand will grab my shirt as we walk to the kitchen for a sippy cup of milk, and I won't be able to believe how much I love this tiny little person.

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