Sorry. That was a weird way to say he's turning one. Like, tomorrow.
Pregnancy was crazy + strange, labor was long + hard, and then...there was Thomas.
I feel quite certain that nothing can prepare a gal for motherhood. Post pregnancy hormones are nuts. Getting your body back but not really getting your body back is coo-coo. Nursing-mom hunger is so much fiercer than pregnancy hunger. (Like, shockingly so.) Being deliriously tired actually coexists magnificently well with (an almost embarrassing amount of) twitterpation over your new little bundle. Getting anything done around the house is nigh impossible, and a new mom cares about the state of her living room, but also doesn't really care about it at all. A still-pregnant gal hears tales that new moms forget to shower and thinks it's all silliness, but then baby comes and it ends up being one of the truest truths ever. When she's still pregnant, she thinks she'll turn down anyone who offers to bring dinner over, but when push comes to shove, she ends up gratefully accepting any meal she doesn't have to prepare. Any help that a mother (or mother-in-law or aunt, etc.) provides to the new mom feels very much like a gift directly from heaven. And remember the crush you had on that one boy in high school? That's small potatoes compared to the obsession you'll experience on this new, tiny person. He or she will be all you think about, and all you talk about. To anybody. Ever.
Man, those first few months are a kick in the pants.
It's interesting, wondering and dreaming what baby might be like; envisioning his personality, telling yourself (and believing yourself!) that because he's a boy he'll be low-drama, trying to picture his face--hoping + praying that he won't end up being the wonky-looking cousin when compared to your beautiful nieces and nephews.
I've been wrong on almost every front, folks.
While we were still in the hospital, I mentioned on social media that Thomas was a chill little thing. That was true when it was written, but proved otherwise as soon as we took him home. And thinking he'd be drama-free because he's a he? WRONG-O. My little boy is a drama queen and has been since his first week of life. Fortunately, he's even more beautiful than I could have hoped for in my wildest dreams--his lovely eyes and cute, squishy cheeks have saved him on multiple occasions.
Anyway, this Tommy boy of mine is the raddest thing that has ever happened to Andy + me. And even though he's high-drama + the wiggliest little squirt that ever lived + somehow hates sleep, he's such an awesome little fellow.
He is a smart little thing. I swear, a lot of the frustration he feels comes from not being able to verbalize his thoughts and feelings. He has intelligent eyes, and it's thrilling to watch him grow and learn and progress.
He's a charming little bugger, and I'm pretty sure he knows it.
He has a deep and abiding love for a stuffed giraffe.
He loves to eat, and prefers eating off Mom + Dad's plate rather than his own.
He has the most expressive face of any human I've ever met.
He loves being outside; he can be throwing a ridiculous tantrum, and if we take him outside, he calms down immediately.
And sharky.
Also, I'm pretty sure I'll never get sick of watching him sleep.
Andy and I love this kid more every day, and we're so grateful that we get to be his parents. He's so much fun, and I can't wait to see what this next year brings to our sweet Thomas.
Now I'm going to go to bed and cry myself to sleep.
