Compartment 14B

Wow! One whole year of Biscuit! 2009-06-03 - 11:07 p.m. Oh my little man, one year ago you came into my life. I got my belly cut open (which didn�t hurt a bit, and I will be silent on the post-op recovery because I don�t want to harsh the buzz of nostalgia here), you latched like a champ, I blew up like a balloon because of all the fluids they pumped into me and made me drink, we cocooned in the hospital (you, me and your daddy), daddy changed your tiny, tiny little diapers, you had your first bath, and we became a �million dollar� family of four, with one girl and one boy. Now you can crawl, and when I have been out of your sight for awhile and you notice me across the room you scoot towards me so fast it reminds me of those lizards that run across the desert, barely skimming the sand. (I know, I�m nothing if not poetically sentimental. Or sentimentally poetic.) You�ve got 3 teeth with more threatening to pop through, and while the top two are a brownish colour we have high hopes that that won�t be the case with your adult teeth. To be honest, even a short couple of weeks ago I thought to myself how I was so used to your gummy smile that it might seem weird when you got teeth, but now that they�re here, arriving all at once, they look so totally right and make your smile even more adorable. You love yogurt. You love crackers. You make excited noises if any cross your line of vision and are bitterly, vocally disappointed if they�re not handed over instantly. You adore your daddy, and eat the most when he is the one feeding you. You love your sister too and this love eclipses even your beloved cappuccino yogurt. When you wake up in a grumpy mood and she comes in all giggles and hellos it instantly puts a smile on your face. We have to be careful though, because you don�t know what �gentle� means and your enthusiasm is often expressed with grabs at our faces that are reminiscent of a snake striking. Before we can duck or even blink you have cheerfully poked, scratched, or grabbed us, and my visage is always sporting tiny scratches as a result. We have just started to try to train you to fall asleep in your crib. This isn�t a plot to get you out of our bed, but, rather, so that you can fall asleep somewhere that you�ll be safe and can�t crawl/flop out of until we come to bed. Tonight you protested for less than 5 minutes and then fell asleep all on your own. Your daddy and I think we�re geniuses for managing this, and idiots for not having done it with your sister when she was your age. You charm us. You charm the world. I hope you always are the happy, easygoing lad you have been for most of the last year. I hope you�ll always be friends with your sister. I hope you�ll give me grandchildren someday. (Sorry to put the pressure on so early but I want you to be as happy as your dad and I are and, well, I want grandchildren someday.) There is a great big world waiting for you and I hope you live, not �get by� but live in it in the years to come. But in the meantime, I am so happy that I get to share part of it with you, in our sheltered little corner of the world. Love, Mumma P.S. A reminder: this is what your sister looked like when she was exactly one year old: and this is what you looked like when you were born: Before - After All content � Shawna 2003-2010 That means no swiping my stuff - text, images, etc. - without asking. P.S. If you're emailing me, replace the [at] with @ in the "to" line. Oh, and if you put the word "journal" in the subject line it'll have a better chance of making it past my junk mail filters. recommend me HTML and design help by Jo hosted by Diaryland