Damien,

Today, you turn one. It has been one full year since you completed our little family. One full year since I first met you, my son, my love. It’s almost hard for me to remember a time before your little face lit up the world and your loud belly laugh filled our home. I don’t want to remember that time all too much, because we’re all happier now that you’re here.

 

The night before you were born, I made cupcakes with your sister to celebrate your birth day. That sister of yours loves you something fierce; you lucked out with that one. You’ve always adored Hayley, and she’s been smitten with you ever since you first met.

Since that first meeting between you two, you have been almost inseparable. Hayley loves to make you laugh- and you are happy to reward her with your infectious giggles. You guys hold hands in the car, and if you start crying she tries to calm you by singing some of her favorite songs. She’s still learning to share her things, but it would probably be easier if you tried to drool a little less, Bubs.  The very best thing I ever gave both of you is each other, and I hope that always continues to be true.

 

I wish your first year could have been easier for you, for us, but I don’t want to dwell on any of that right now. It doesn’t matter right now. You’re safe. You’re healthy. You’re here. You’re happy. You’re you.

 

You have had lots of first, appropriately enough, so let’s review a few:

You had your first smiles, at less than a week old. We thought maybe they were a fluke, but, nope, you smiled constantly and consistently. I can still always count on you for that.

You had your first communication, besides crying. This is how you told me you were hungry:

Your first ridiculous costume.

Your first baseball season.

Then there was Easter.

Followed by some heartbreak, but you were such a trooper.

Your first time on the swings.

Your first solid.

This is about when I realized I was in trouble.

Your first Independence Day.

You might not have taken note, but your half birthday was definitely considered by me.

Then you did this:

Then you came home.

Oh, and you decided that was the perfect day to start crawling for real.

You played your first game of Hide-and-Seek:

Your first self feeding.

 

 

You started doing this pretty regularly by 7 months:

You finally met your Uncle Gabe.

You went down the slide for the first time.

We went to your first pumpkin patch.

We went to Disneyland and had the times of our lives.

 

 

 

 

 

Best. Vacation. Ever.