It's official. As of yesterday, my sweet adorable little baby is now a (gasp!) toddler! I suppose he's been a toddler for a few months now with all of the walking he's been doing. But there's something about that one-year milestone that gets me. When a baby is first born, his life is measured in weeks. After about 12 weeks, you tell people how many months he is and it's sort of relieving not having to keep track of the weeks. At one, however, when someone asks Tate's age, I could just say "one" and it would be totally accurate.
I managed through the day without too many tears. I caught myself with a few trickling down occasionally, but I wasn't the water fountain that I was when Rowan turned one. I really just tried to enjoy Tate's day with him. We played. We ran. We knocked down lots of blocks. I sang "Happy Birthday" too many times to count. We cuddled.
I thought back to a year ago when my little guy was born, my long labor, my c-section and all of the complications that came along with it. And I think what a small price that was for such a huge gift. There are days, like today, where I really can't get enough of my little guy. Where I contemplate waking him up from his nap just to cuddle (but knowing that he would never just want to cuddle for more than a minute or two). He greets me every day with an almost ridiculous number of kisses. He lights up when we go get Rowan up in the morning. There is nothing he likes more than being chased, except maybe being held if it's that time of day. He is such a mama's boy. His favorite toys at home are the ball popper, the toy phone and the blocks. His favorite toy at Susan's house is the Disney Princess vanity. He loves to chase Harley and Sebby and pull on Sebby's beard and tail.
Tate, I hope you always have such a zest for life and are a mama's boy forever. I love you, little Tater Tot!
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