|HP at two days. Photo by Jennifer Borget Photography|
I enjoyed his infancy and tried my best to savor every stage. (Okay, I savored parts of every stage. I could do without the terrible napping and frequent night wakings that lasted for months and months and months.) Each month I would find myself thinking: He's so adorable, this has to be the cutest stage! But then time would pass and I would think: Nope, this is the best stage. But every time, I am wrong; it keeps getting better.
I have clear memories his tiny newborn days. I can still picture his little balled up fist curled against his cheek, his head cocked at a strange angle, and his mouth hanging slightly open as he napped on my chest for hours at a time. Words cannot do the sweetness of those moments justice. But I have no desire to go back. I remember what struggle breastfeeding was the first months (yes, months). I remember how I worried about silly things as a new parent navigating the scary world of motherhood. I remember how isolating those first months were as we transitioned into our role as parents and I adjusted to being bus-bound. I look back fondly on those early days, but I refuse to romanticize them.
HP is now an active, curious, sweet little boy. Each day we are learning more about his personality, what he likes, what he hates, what makes him sad, and what makes him laugh. Neil diplomatically says HP is "more interactive" now. I just say he's more fun.
Sitting here a year in I am not sad about time passing too quickly or lamenting the fleeting nature of childhood. I am thankful. Thankful for a happy and healthy one-year old, thankful we get to be HP's parents, thankful we all made it through the last twelve months in one piece.
It's been a good year.