Tomorrow morning, at 10:21, you will be 365 days old. I am honestly not sure how that happened.
Lots of people have told us that the first birthday is really for the parents, as a way of celebrating having survived the first year. We don't feel that way at all--this year has been one that has tested our capacity for joy, rather than the limits of our endurance. Certainly there have been some really long nights, and a few long days, and plenty of moments when I would have given anything for another hours' sleep; but all in all it's been a brilliantly, ecstatically, wildly fantastic year with you.
We've been horrible about recording your habits as they've changed and your milestones along the way. We're just not the baby book types I guess. Plus, I am always convinced I will remember every little thing. Unfortunately, not so. Of course, there is a lot I will never forget.
You were just shy of two months when you had your first big belly laugh, and you have basically never stopped. Your good humor (indeed, your sense of humor) blows me away, mainly because we think the same things are funny. That betrays my unsophisticated sense of humor, but so what. I hope we will go on cracking each other up the rest of our long lives.
At four months, we took a trip out to California to attend a wedding and meet some of your wonderful West Coast relatives. That was when your dad and I first saw how manic and happy you get when you stay up past your bedtime. Rather than melting down on the plane at 11 pm, you were ALL-CAPS THRILLED with everything. This is still the case when you stay up too late. You absolutely love it. That trip was also the first time we realized exactly how much you love seeing new things. I felt terrible for staying home with you so much, because being in a new environment with new people made you so. very. happy. It's a good thing that you love traveling, because you have family all over the country, and they all love you so. I think there will be lots of visiting in your future.
When you turned five months old, after refusing to take a bottle for months, you decided you loved drinking out of a glass. You still don't own a sippy cup. It was the same day you moved up a snap on your diaper. The combination was absolutely shattering and began my battle with time (which I am losing, obviously). At that point you were also regularly using the potty, which was so exciting as I thought it was an indication that you'd be out of diapers before too long. Oh well.
At seven months, you stopped using the potty entirely and have been on strike ever since.
Around that time, after months of obsessing over what the adults were eating, you finally got a taste. Your first food was avocado, followed soon after by banana, egg yolks, various roasted root vegetables, apples (you love apples almost as much as I do), and so on. At dinner one night we gave you a strip of rare steak. You went absolutely nuts over it, and still do. Now you can actually eat the steak--sort of--then you just sucked all the juices out until it was basically white. You really love food. A darn good thing in this family.
The week you turned eight months, you got your first two teeth and started crawling. You had been scaling the stairs expertly for a few weeks, but hadn't yet applied the skill to horizontal surfaces. We had been convinced that you would skip crawling and walk early. Luckily, once you could crawl the drive to walk became much less urgent, and you have been content on four wheels until recently.
At ten months, you got your next set of teeth and started saying 'mama' from time to time. By eleven months, you were signing for a few things, and were saying 'up'. Over Christmas, you started walking, and you mastered one word which you say perfectly--as if you were teaching proper diction to a class of drawling second graders. You now spend a great deal of time every day identifying the various hot things in every room. Radiator=hot. Coffee cup=hot. Candle flame=hot. Oven, stove, dishwasher, faucet. Hot. Occasionally, hot things will include the dog, me (why thank you), a book. But mostly you are right on the money. You also say 'light' with a german accent. One morning last week, you woke up just as the light was coming into the sky. You pointed to each window in the bedroom and said "light", "light", "light", and continued this as the sun began to rise. Your glee made up for the early hour.
It is so sweet how much pride you take in being able to identify all the hots and lights in your world. You have several other words, and probably more that I haven't clued into yet. Sometimes you will look at me with great intent and repeat a sound over and over, while pointing in the direction of something. It is a shame that I am not able to figure them all out. It must be pretty frustrating for you. We'll get better at this with time.
So you now? You at 12 months? Incredible. Beyond. It used to be that I got nothing done because you wanted to hang out with me all the time. Now I get nothing done because I just want to sit and watch you play. You have been incredibly independent since you started walking, and find all sorts of ways to occupy yourself. We keep your toys in baskets throughout the house. You love emptying a basket and will pick out a choice object to carry around and talk to. You also frequently put the empty basket on your head, and crawl around wearing it like a hat. Sometimes you wear the basket over your face so you can't really see and you laugh SO hard as you crawl around in suspense of not knowing what you might bump into.
Since you were a very wee thing you have LOVED being surprised, being thrown up in the air or turned upside-down, bounced, swung, tickled and tossed. You love it all. There is something wrong with our gas fireplace and it makes an alarming 'boom' when it turns on. It took you about two days to figure out exactly what button to push how many times to turn the fireplace on and off. Once you get hold of the remote, you will sit in front of the fireplace, press the button three times, and brace yourself for the 'boom'. Then you turn it off and do it again, always waiting for that surprise 'boom'. It's all fun now, but I must warn you that you will not be allowed to skydive, rock climb, paraglide or anything of the sort until you are in your forties. Sorry, but those are the rules.
If I could keep you from growing up, I absolutely would. I know the phases to come are going to be so much fun, and truly it all just gets better and better. But it is hard to believe that you will ever be as beguiling, sweet, and funny as you are every moment. You have always been an enchanting little thing, so engaging, aware, and self-possessed. Darn cute too. It takes forever to do anything in public with you because literally 80 percent of the people we see want to stop and talk to you. Who could blame them? They just want in on the fun.
Oh Isla, my walking, talking angelbaby. All those years of dreaming about the baby I would one day have, I had no idea that it would be this good; that it would be YOU. Being your mother is so much better than I thought possible, and you are so much more amazing--so much more than I ever thought a baby could be. This has been the best year ever for your papa and me. I love you to the blue sky my little bean. I love you so.
xo
Mama
