A YEAR? Says who?

Theo is officially a year old today, although with Ruth's work schedule we're not going to do any celebrating until the weekend, and even that will be extremely low-key. First birthdays are usually about adults getting together to watch a kid who hasn't quite figured out how to use his hands yet smear frosting all over his face. Why have a huge party when the guest of honor doesn't quite know what's going on?

Still, we made the day as special as we could, starting with swim class (his favorite time of the week), then lunch with his Mommy, and finally a late afternoon walk strapped to Daddy's chest. He's not quite sure what to make of his new jogging stroller yet (a post all its own, maybe later this week), so I think most of our walks will still use the Moby wrap and for now the stroller will be used mainly for Daddy's exercise and times when I just don't feel like carrying 20+ extra pounds.

Having a year behind us has reinforced all the contradictory thoughts that come with being parents. On the one hand, he's definitely not much of a baby anymore, and we're sad to see the trappings and rituals of baby-hood fall away.

On the other hand, most of what we're losing was annoying, inconvenient or both at the time -- would we really want to spend the rest of our lives with a helpless, noisy 20 pound ball of squirm who never lets us have a full night's sleep, can only speak in screams and needs us to wipe his ass 5 times a day? (Note that this is also a handy list of why we own cats rather than dogs.) So thank goodness he's growing up -- Come to think of it, why isn't he in college yet?

One thing the family accountant is VERY happy to be done with is $20 a week worth of POWDERED MILK. We'll be buying a lot more full-fat cow juice than we ever have before, but even at close to $4 a gallon for non-organic regular we're coming out WAY ahead.

The things we want to remember about having a one-year old? The excited yelp and madcap crawl to the front door when Mommy comes home. The huge grin he gives to anyone we meet who smiles at him. The "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH" noise he makes to test the echoes in an enclosed space. The way he crawls up to our shoulders and gives us a hug before we put him in his crib at bedtime. The way he smiles at me when I put him down for a nap, right before the cry of protest when he realizes that I'm going to darken the room. The singsong noises when he first wakes up in the morning, and the huge smile we get when we pick him up out of the crib.

By the way, kid: You're not getting my cell phone or my laptop anytime soon. Get over this now and life will get easier for both of us...