Tonight I put Max to bed a baby; tomorrow morning when he wakes he will be a toddler. And that terrifies me to pieces. So I'm sitting here alone in the dark, our home in upheaval what with the impending move, and reflecting over this past year with Baby Max as if it was yesterday. My stomach now even hurts a little as I think about the day I went into labor, but unlike last time when it was because of those darned contractions, this time it's because I drank far too much sparkling Pellegrino since the movers packed away our Brita.
All day long, in between chasing an active almost-toddler away from the movers who came to pack us up, I was remembering exactly what was happening each hour of this day last year: the unplanned OB visit at noon to check my cervix due to concerns from that morning; the uneasy cab ride home two hours later when the doc cleared me and sent me back; the increasing discomfort in my belly all throughout the afternoon; how I dutifully (and painfully!) trudged down two flights of stairs to take the dog out across the street at 4:30pm; how my girlfriend suggested I start timing the "pains" at 5pm just to be sure they weren't actually contractions (turns out they were!); how The Fella got home from work at 6:15pm to find me doubled over on the couch; how our lucky neighbor (who had just moved back to the building!) drove us to the hospital at 6:45pm; how, at 7pm, nurse said I was only dilated a stinkin' 1cm and suggested I go home to which I yelled something about not leaving and give me an epidural now!!!; got an epidural finally at 8pm and became the nicest person around; at 10pm, while laying around waiting on the delivery bed, The Fella whipped out the prettiest surprise push present out of nowhere; at 12 midnight, the OB showed up and said WHOA, his head has already crowned, time to get started!! . . . and the rest is history!
I love all the smallest things about Baby Max.
I love how he always smelled of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo when he was a newborn; the scent always lingered so much longer on his skin than it does now, I wonder why that is...
I love how there was this period around 2 months old when he couldn't move yet but we would always find him turned 90 degrees on the opposite end of the crib in the morning, not how we laid him down for the night!
I love how he totally recognized his own name from three months old and his face would light up into a little, cheeky smile whenever he heard the familiar sing-song of his name.
I love the evil laugh he used to have whenever FurFur would do something bad and Mommy would scold her.
I love how he would grab onto the dog leash and help me "walk" FurFur from the time he was just three months old and I would wear him in a Baby Bjorn on my chest. To date, we still joke he might become a dog walker because he's quite obsessed with holding the leash, still.
I love how, if given the choice, he always crawls around with two matching things, one like item in each hand.
I love how he will only smash down objects, but not build.
I love how when he first learned to walk with my help, he would very gingerly gather up each of my hands, one at a time, until he could pull himself up to stand.
I love how when he first learned to wave, he would only do it after 6pm and with his right hand. And his hand would wave ever-so-slowly while his face maintained a very still, stoic expression, like he didn't know what his hand was doing.
I love how he throws his whole upper body down onto the floor, like he's praying to Allah. I honestly have no idea what he's thinking when he does that, but it's so darn cute and dramatic!
I love how he can do these crazy party tricks with his little tongue, like he's tying a knot with a cherry––Baby Max, you're too young for this!!
I love the first time he ever responded to a command from me. I was chatting a long string of nonsense while feeding him and all of a sudden he clapped his hands when I said "Clap your hands!" It was, like, whoa––all this repetitive talking and Baby Sign Language stuff is finally paying off!
And then there's that time, just two mornings ago, when Baby Sign Language really kicked in, as we tried to have Baby Max lay in bed with us. Baby Max, who despises cuddling in bed (always has, always will, even as a newborn)––pulled out the big guns and frantically started signing "No More/All Done!!" Sad, but totally funny, too. You'd think he was being tortured.
I love everything about being a mother to Max. He'll always be my baby, yea.
All day long, in between chasing an active almost-toddler away from the movers who came to pack us up, I was remembering exactly what was happening each hour of this day last year: the unplanned OB visit at noon to check my cervix due to concerns from that morning; the uneasy cab ride home two hours later when the doc cleared me and sent me back; the increasing discomfort in my belly all throughout the afternoon; how I dutifully (and painfully!) trudged down two flights of stairs to take the dog out across the street at 4:30pm; how my girlfriend suggested I start timing the "pains" at 5pm just to be sure they weren't actually contractions (turns out they were!); how The Fella got home from work at 6:15pm to find me doubled over on the couch; how our lucky neighbor (who had just moved back to the building!) drove us to the hospital at 6:45pm; how, at 7pm, nurse said I was only dilated a stinkin' 1cm and suggested I go home to which I yelled something about not leaving and give me an epidural now!!!; got an epidural finally at 8pm and became the nicest person around; at 10pm, while laying around waiting on the delivery bed, The Fella whipped out the prettiest surprise push present out of nowhere; at 12 midnight, the OB showed up and said WHOA, his head has already crowned, time to get started!! . . . and the rest is history!
I love all the smallest things about Baby Max.
I love how he always smelled of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo when he was a newborn; the scent always lingered so much longer on his skin than it does now, I wonder why that is...
I love how there was this period around 2 months old when he couldn't move yet but we would always find him turned 90 degrees on the opposite end of the crib in the morning, not how we laid him down for the night!
I love how he totally recognized his own name from three months old and his face would light up into a little, cheeky smile whenever he heard the familiar sing-song of his name.
I love the evil laugh he used to have whenever FurFur would do something bad and Mommy would scold her.
I love how he would grab onto the dog leash and help me "walk" FurFur from the time he was just three months old and I would wear him in a Baby Bjorn on my chest. To date, we still joke he might become a dog walker because he's quite obsessed with holding the leash, still.
I love how, if given the choice, he always crawls around with two matching things, one like item in each hand.
I love how he will only smash down objects, but not build.
I love how when he first learned to walk with my help, he would very gingerly gather up each of my hands, one at a time, until he could pull himself up to stand.
I love how when he first learned to wave, he would only do it after 6pm and with his right hand. And his hand would wave ever-so-slowly while his face maintained a very still, stoic expression, like he didn't know what his hand was doing.
I love how he throws his whole upper body down onto the floor, like he's praying to Allah. I honestly have no idea what he's thinking when he does that, but it's so darn cute and dramatic!
I love how he can do these crazy party tricks with his little tongue, like he's tying a knot with a cherry––Baby Max, you're too young for this!!
I love the first time he ever responded to a command from me. I was chatting a long string of nonsense while feeding him and all of a sudden he clapped his hands when I said "Clap your hands!" It was, like, whoa––all this repetitive talking and Baby Sign Language stuff is finally paying off!
And then there's that time, just two mornings ago, when Baby Sign Language really kicked in, as we tried to have Baby Max lay in bed with us. Baby Max, who despises cuddling in bed (always has, always will, even as a newborn)––pulled out the big guns and frantically started signing "No More/All Done!!" Sad, but totally funny, too. You'd think he was being tortured.
I love everything about being a mother to Max. He'll always be my baby, yea.
Happy Birthday Max!!!
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