Dear Jack,

Today you are 13 months + 1 day old. This is the first time I've been late with your letter, but it probably won't be the last. I spent yesterday evening writing an exhaustive account of your day - something new I'm trying. But it was exhausting and exhaustive, and I decided it was probably only interesting to me. So here we are, and here is your letter.

Your thirteenth month started with your first birthday party. What a great day! We rented a picnic shelter at a nearby park and so many of our friends and yours came by to celebrate with you. Your grandparents came from Cheraw, and your uncle and cousins were here from Florida. You were sweaty and red-faced the entire time, and ate plenty of dirt before you had your first taste of cake. I think you were a little put off by the frosting on your fingers at first, but once you tasted a bit, you were all smiles. You smashed the tiny cake I baked to pieces and got us both covered in all that goodness. I was disorganized and a little frantic, but I think a good time was had by everyone. It was a good day.


We went to a pool playdate at Sandi's neighborhood, so you got your first taste of a larger body of water. You loved it! You kicked your legs and I even dunked you once or twice. You're a water baby through and through. I was relieved, since we were headed to the beach a couple of weeks later. We rented a lovely beach house with the Daniels family on St. Augustine Beach. The first time we walked onto the sand, you headed straight for the water, no fear and no hesitation. After you tumbled and got a mouthful of salt water, you were a little less courageous, but you kept running toward the water. You'd turn around when you noticed a wave coming, or reach up to be held. By the next day, you were back to running headlong toward the shore.


You started clapping a lot this month, and sometimes you get so excited that you scare yourself. You don't do anything small, even clapping. You got two more teeth last month, for a grand total of eight. I still haven't cut your hair, but it's pretty awesome. I think about trimming the back, and maybe I will this month. I like how it sticks out over your ears. You seem to have grown a good bit since your appointment at the beginning of June. Your shoes will be too small soon. Jason Daniels nicknamed you "Chubs" and called you Captain Caveman and Butterball. Your belly is a thing of beauty!

Here are a few things I've heard in your presence over the last few weeks:
"Oh, look at them eyes! Some girl's gonna snatch him up!" (old lady at the market)
"He's gonna be bigger than you, man." (man behind us in line, to your dad)
"That's a might fine lookin' fella." (old man behind in the produce section)
"He has no fear, does he?" (several mamas at a playdate)
"He cracks me up!" (another mama as you walked around naked at said playdate)
You're still popular with friends and strangers alike, and I still feel like part of your entourage.

It's not all easy, for sure. You are strong-willed and physically so strong and fast. I have to be very creative to get a diaper on you these days. You've started thrusting your arms straight up to wiggle out of my arms. For now I can still pick you up and wrangle you, but those days are numbered. You push every button you can find, and climb anything you can. I find myself shouting STOP a hundred times a day. It worked for a while, but I can see the effectiveness waning. I will keep trying. That's my job.

I feel in some ways that this last month was as long as your first year. A friend told me (much more eloquently) last week that God gives children the parents they need. We agreed that a more rigid upbringing would surely have broken your spirit. If that is God's grace for you, through me, I am honored.

I know God is supplying me with daily grace to be your mother. The joy is boundless, but the energy is metered in a way that sometimes amazes me. I have enough for the next step. My daily bread. There is a symmetry and reciprocity to it that maybe only I can appreciate. It may mean that our house is always a mess and I dream up projects that I won't complete for years, but I'm excited to be raising you up.

I love you, little man.

Mama

Cake face.

Dear Jack,

Today you are one. year. old. This time last year I was pushing with all my might through a cloud of fear and fatigue. To say that your birth was difficult doesn't encompass the experience. After 40 hours of labor, you were delivered through an incision in my abdomen as I shook behind a blue curtain. Normally, I'd be thankful for the blurry recollection of a painful time, but I'm still grieving the loss of those first precious moments with you. While I've celebrated your birth today, I admit that loss has been on my mind.

My dear son, walking forward while looking back can be foolish. I've tried hard to turn my head, and lately I have begun to feel that one day I will be at peace with the way you came into this world. There's a glimmer. It helps that you keep my focus. You're not that tiny baby anymore, and I'm not that exhausted, wounded new mama.

In your twelfth month, you really got the hang of walking. You're still top heavy, and lose your balance all the time. Lately, though, you've learned to catch and correct yourself. You pivot, turn, and back up. You push up on your own and have mostly given up crawling. I watched you today, watching some older girls chase each other at top speed. It was so clear that you wanted to do what they were doing. I loved to see that look of wonder, but I said a small prayer of thanks that you aren't running. Yet.

All your charm, charisma, and humor has exploded. You truly are such a fun kid. Your strong will means you can be frustratingly stubborn, and hard to distract. Angry when I get in the way of what you want. You've started yelling "DOP!" But you have a switch you can flip in an instant and all of a sudden you're this delightful clown, hamming it up for whatever audience you face. I've called you mercurial several times in the last few weeks. I suppose I could have predicted this with your "criling" when you were just a wee one. I know that this will of yours may continue to frustrate me, but I also know that it will serve you well in life. Especially if you can set it aside long enough to make someone smile.

No surprise here, but you're more and more beautiful each day. Your hair is lightening up as we spend time outside, and despite the sunscreen I religiously apply, your arms and legs are bronzing. I was all but ready to cut your hair last week, but now I think I'll wait. It's long and wispy and often Doc-Brown-crazy, but in some way it suits you. Your grin is quite toothy now. You've got all four teeth across the top (in varying stages of growth) and the two front teeth on the bottom. One of your favorite things to do is brush your teeth! We do this together each night. You wiggle the toothbrush up and down like I do. We got your first pair of real shoes last month, 6 1/2 extra wide. Big foot!

The evolution of your dance is truly a sight. I am still working on capturing it on video. When you hear any regular beat, you starting dropping your knees and bouncing. After about ten bounces, you quickly flap your hands up and down. It's very controlled now, and you keep a serious face until we applaud, when you burst into a smile. It seems like it never gets old to you, and it really never gets old for your dad and me. Today a local news crew came to our cloth diaper meeting, and your dance moves made it on camera! I may have to call the station and ask for a copy.

At one year, you're a big, beautiful, strong, determined boy. I am so excited about what is in store for you. As I wrote you letters before you were born, I imagined great things for you, but I couldn't imagine anything like what I see now that I know you. I am so proud of all that you are. You are precious, and you are mine.

With all the love I can give on your first birthday,

Mama

a year in pictures

Dear Jack, my little Tomato Face,

Today you are 11 months old. You're rounding the corner on one whole year! It's a lot more like careening headlong, danger and misadventure at every turn. What a month! You kept me moving all month long, and caught me on my heels a couple of times. You were "cautiously" cruising around the furniture last month. This month you are boldly stepping out. You've taken as many as 13 unassisted steps in a row, preferring to walk on carpet or grass instead of our hardwood floors. Smart boy. Then again, you exhibit so little fear of falling that I wonder when your judgment will kick in.

As the pediatrician was stitching up your finger a couple of weeks ago, (yeah...we'll get to that), she exclaimed "He's a brute!" How true. You are stronger than you know, and you've started slapping, manhandling, pushing, shoving, all without malice, but I'm bearing some of the evidence. You flip over your big toys, push heavy furniture around, and pull with all your might on locked cabinets. A few times a day I'm led to say, "HULK SMASH" under my breath. You had a little run in with a drinking glass as you were helping me unload the dishwasher and you got four stitches as a result. You may escape with a little scar, but your mama is scarred deep. Thank you for being a good sport through the whole experience. We couldn't both fall apart that fateful morning!

You've started giving us kisses, big, brutish, open-mouthed things that you end with a huge "waaah." If you're quiet, I'm sure you would hear the pitter patter of my heart. However, you're rarely quiet. You talk a lot, and this month several real words have emerged. Mama and Dah-deee are discriminate, and you say daw for dog, duh for duck, and bawh for ball. You love to make a motorboat/helicopter noise all day long.

Tomatoes have become your favorite food. While you still don't "act" that much like you are hungry or excited about food, you will eat chunks of fresh tomato until they're all gone. You also like strawberries, cucumbers, pickles, and cheese. You still like beans and zucchini and sometimes you will eat chicken. I gave you a lemon wedge when your Tia Khelen and Uncle Paul were in town, and you made us all laugh by wincing and shuddering, then going for more.

Your honey blond hair is actually a little darker than I thought it would be, but I have a feeling when we come back from the beach next month you will be white blond. I have considered cutting your hair, but I think I will wait until you're one. We'll see. Your hair is constantly stuck to your sweaty head anyway. It's starting to "curl" up over your ears, by which I mean it flips out a little bit. You still cry to go outside, and cry when we come in. I love that you want to be outdoors, and I'm doing my best to accomodate!

Your determination is amazing. You can't be distracted from something that you want, and if something is out of reach, you will stand on your tip toes and s-t-r-e-t-c-h and reach, often to your peril. I hope you keep this determination throughout your life, and use it to stay true to yourself and to do good for other people. I will try my best not to break your will.

I'm struck daily by just how cool you are. I'm amazed by you. You are learning and growing at a fearful, wonderful pace. I am growing right along with you, and praying I can keep up.

Walk tall, little man. I am so very proud of you.

Mama

mother's day

this time last year
i thought i had a week or so
you thought differently and stayed another month
but you came when you came
and the sky was brighter.
last mother's day i cradled you entirely
and you were a stranger to me
i loved you entirely, and yet i didn't know what love was.
this year, i can only cradle you in part,
in the crook of my weighed-down arms
and the part of my heart that will keep cradling,
even when you can rest your chin on my head.

Dear Jack (my little vampire),

Today you are 10 months old. The sun is shining. A good rain recently washed away most of the pollen that coated our little world, and our dogwoods bloom brighter and bigger than the past couple of years. You love to be outside and stare out the back door while I wash dishes or make our breakfast. As the grass fills in, we'll spend more time out there. I look forward to the day when you can play out back as much as you like. To mud behind your ears and grass stains on your knees.

This past month was long like the last, but so much has happened. You're fully in that famous separation anxiety phase. You're fine with other people, and you're even content to be in the nursery at church...as long as I'm not in sight. When I am, you're clinging to my legs, begging to be picked up. It's the most tiring phase yet (for your mama). I feel lucky that you are a social butterfly, and you will happily go to friends. If I'm sneaky enough, I can slip away unnoticed and you are fine until you see me again. Some days, when it's just the two of us, we have to leave the house to give me a little break.

You're collecting girlfriends all over the place. Boyfriends, too. No matter where we go, at least a couple of people comment on your bright eyes or your large size, or your overall cuteness. And you are cute. So very cute! You have developed this "cheese" face, where you smile and scrunch your eyes almost completely closed. You also cheese when you're mad. We're starting to have to react to your moods, and that's new. We have to make sure you know it's not funny to angrily squeal and slam down your cup. Even if it means turning our heads so you can't see us grinning.

You're getting pretty good with a cup. You prefer a regular cup to the kind with handles. You stopped eating regular food almost altogether for a few days. But we'll get to that later. You've been eating more, but still not much. You are so very insistent that I not feed you anything. You must feed yourself. You've been eating peaches, pears, apples, bananas, and bread the most. Still no purees, and I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed. You seem to love cooked zucchini and black beans, as much as you love any food (again, not much). Still, every now and then you'll seem really excited about eating. I just don't know when, or why.

The complete food strike of two weeks ago was explained on Easter Sunday, when you presented us with your first tooth! In classic Jack style, you got your incisor or canine (I'm not really sure which it is) on the top right before the typical bottom front teeth. You are my little snaggletoothed vampire. Three days later, you got the bottom left tooth. Which one will be next? All of your gums seem swollen, top and bottom, so it's anyone's guess. I sort of expect (and hope) you to get your teeth quickly now. You have been the longest teether!

I have saved my favorite development for last: the dance. My son, you've never heard a beat you couldn't jive to. When you hear a steady drum, your little knees start bouncing. If you're sitting down, you start to slap your hands on the ground, or look for a place to stand up so you can bounce. It's awesome. Music can cure your moods, too. I love that you love to hear music and I promise to fill your life with as much of it as I can.

Keep on dancing, my love.

Mama