That face! Right? It really is the funniest/cutest/bestest thing I've ever seen.
In the midst of this incredibly busy week, our little guy turned 1. We've done this before, you know, four times even, but I think it only gets crazier, the way this first year and our kids' baby-hood goes past in a blink of an eye.
I try and I try and I try to memorize them, to have their beautiful baby faces so much a part of me, so much a part of how I see them, that I'll never forget their baby days. That when they are grown, or rude, or gone from me, I'll think of them with the same heart-bursting adoration. That I'll embrace them wholeheartedly then as I do now.
So, little Lewis, I want to remember the faint freckle in your right eyebrow. I hope I never forget the gap between your two front baby teeth. That looking into your eyes I, and I alone, noticed that one eye is just a little bigger than the other. Or the tiny bit of blondish-gold at the base of your eyelashes. I hope I always cherish the thought of your light and soft curls, the way they bounce around the nape of your neck and around your little ears. If I could, please let me remember your ginormous, meaty hands grasping onto me, the feel of your warm body nestled against mine all night, and your waker-upper squeals when your mind is ready to go, but your eyes are still shut tight. I want to have every generous roll and dimple of your chubby baby body imprinted in my mind.
How about how slow you are to laugh, how surprised you are to fall or bump or hurt. How persistently you fight to get into the cupboards or play with a phone, or even try to touch the fire. Your adoration of dad, of pushing toy cars, of getting outside and playing in the dirt. That you and James wear the same size of clothes these days. Your excitement to stand and walk and clap and peek-a-boo. Your little chin jutting out when you give me a kiss, and how much you love helicopter rides and swings and being upside-down.
I love you, little guy. I adore you.
And thanks for being my son.