I don't even know what to say about the happiest baby on the planet turning one. I can tell you this though. Considering my competitive nature, it really bothers me when people say or try to act like they have the happiest baby. I have the happiest baby. Me. Only me. NO ONE'S baby is possibly happier than my baby. I met my daycare lady's husband the other day, he is Somali, and in his thick accent said, "Ahh, and you are the doctor. Curty is such a sweety. Such a sweety." And proceeded to pinch Curtis' cheeks as Curtis sat contently in my arms and grinned the hugest grin imaginable. Every time I pick him up from daycare, I am told, "He is so happy, what a great baby, we love him." Said with a tone as if it is a surprise everyday. Which it is. You can't help but think one day, something has gotta give.
One day, the harsh reality of daily life will set in, and Curtis will stop being so blissfully unaware of this fact. He will start to notice that his brother regularly takes the toy he is playing with to replace it with a less fun toy. He will notice that no one is playing with him because he is happily entertaining himself. He will get annoyed by the puppy and the three year old romping all over him. He will decide some foods actually do taste bad. He will not smile at just any friend, or stranger, who looks his way. He will not break into a belly laugh at the sight of his brother doing somersaults, or playing peek-a-boo.
Or maybe it won't. Probably it won't. If it hasn't changed a bit in a year, why would it 2 or 3 or 4 years from now? I have been beyond blessed with this boy. I think I can honestly say, I have never felt a single moment of frustration with him. His delivery even, no frustration. I was nothing but smiles. He nursed like a champ from day one. He woke up only once a night from the day we brought him home from the hospital. He still sleeps like a log. He doesn't cry for no reason. I studied for and passed boards while caring for him.Don't get me wrong, his laid back, content nature does have some drawbacks. He has NO desire to walk. None. He was crawling at 4 months, but not even walking by 12!? He will take 1-2 steps between furniture, and that is about it. I know it's neither a strength nor coordination issue, because he can traverse both up and down the steps no problem. He can climb onto the bed or chair and jump on it with his brother while using only one hand to brace himself. He stands up on his own. He has jumped in that damn Johnny-Jumper for more hours than I care to think about. He has got to have quads of steel by this point. Therefore, it is simply a motivational issue. And honestly? Brock and I have enough motivation for the likes of a dozen people. So maybe it's for the best. I really, really like my happy baby.
The year went too fast. Seems like just a few weeks ago that we welcomed our 9 pounder. Now he is a 24.5 pound, 31.25 inch, 90th percentile linebacker of a kid. Yet, it feels like I've known him all my life. It's funny. No matter how hectic, insane, out of control, stressful, busy, chaotic life gets, you can never regret the decision to have a child. They instantaneously become a part of you. A part of you so big that if you lost it, you may not be able to go on living. And even if you do, you will never be the same. Simply amazing that something so little, so needy, can have such an impact.
Happy 1st Birthday, Curtis Patrick. Thank you for reminding me every single day that there is always something to smile about.
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