Dear Bam Bam,

You turned one today. How is that possible since it was only yesterday that I heard the doctor say, "We have a linebacker on our hands!" when he first lifted you from my belly. I held my breath until I heard your first cries. You wailed, I breathed, and so your first year of life began.


You did quite a bit of wailing your first few months of life, actually. I don't remember breathing then but I suppose I must have. Most of my actions then were automatic. I was so sleep deprived I felt like I was walking around in a perpetual fog. They were difficult days but I'll tell you what . . . I'd go back to them in a heartbeat if you would just be little again. I would welcome the 45 minutes of sleep at a time and the hours of crying from 3 am to 6 am every night if you would just fit into my arms the way you did back then.


I've said this before, but I wish life had a magic rewind button. If it did, there are so many moments I would be enjoying with you over and over again . . . your first smile, the first time you wrapped your little fingers around mine, the way we would snuggle together when everyone else was sleeping, the funny look on your face the first time you tried fruit, the first time you rolled over, how absolutely determined you were to stand up on your own, and how you would clap for yourself so hard you would knock yourself over. I would rewind and enjoy your first steps all over again. I would enjoy that proud little smile of yours a bit longer. I would listen to your adorable belly laugh over and over. I would watch with amazement at how early you learned just about everything - from rolling over at 3 months, crawling at 5 months, to standing up at 6 months, to walking at 10 months and talking at 11 months.. I would listen over and over again to hear you say your first words -mama, dada, baba, Bridget (yes, Bridget, although it sounds more like jit jit but I know what you mean, ball, and pop.) I smile when I remember Megan teaching you to say "ball" and how you ran over to me with the ball in your hand, so excited that you could say the word. Moments like today when you woke up from your nap would be played and replayed many times. I would watch you put your little arms around me, hug me, and give me one big, fat, wet kiss after another. Why can't life have a magic rewind button?


I guess it forces me to live in the present . . . to look forward to the future instead of being preoccupied with the past. The realization that I can't live those moments over again makes me want to focus more on the here and now and try to squeeze the most out of every little moment.


I couldn't love you more, little man. To me, you are still that little man that used to only weigh 9 pounds 2 ounces (even if you only weighed that for about 10 minutes. ha, ha) I can't wait to see what kind of adventures we will have together this year.

I love you with all my heart and couldn't be more glad you joined our family a year ago today.

Love,
Momma

July 2010

Me and you at Clearwater Lake, Michigan

(Megan took this picture.)