Just after midnight a year ago today, a gorgeous little chunk of a baby was placed on my chest. Perhaps I have been as deliriously happy at other times, but certainly never more so.
“Has he turned?” asked L some half-dozen times this morning. Yes, difficult it may be to believe, but my last baby is hardly a baby anymore. Part of me is sad to see my squishy little bundle become a boy — but oh, the excitement of discovering, day after day, just who this little boy is!
His current fascinations are with wheels and buttons. He loves to just sit there and turn and turn and turn the wheels of a toy car or truck with his chubby little index finger. And he flaps his arms with delight at the mere thought of pushing one of the buttons on the elevator in our building.
Meanwhile, it seems he’s decided that it’s time to learn to walk. Just yesterday he was experimenting with letting go and taking one or two stumbling steps. And though he has no words (unless you count Mamamamamamama, which he’s been saying since October — and I’ll admit it, I kinda do count it!), he’s so very expressive with his big eyes, big arm gestures, and big Ooohs and Aaahs that his thoughts and feelings are nearly always perfectly clear.
Happy birthday, little Gnome! I love you so.