Remembering

9:56 AM






I'm so glad I keep this journal of me and my boy conquering the world. Sometimes I think back to months of Milo's life and the details of what we did every day are fuzzy, but I remember with complete clarity how it felt. This time last year, I remember that he was starting to try taking his first steps, but barely. He was climbing on everything and I put him in his Christmas jams every chance I got. He liked to crawl under the Christmas tree and get stuck behind the treadmill. I was still nursing him and clinging on to every second of the time I had with him in my arms. He still wasn't sleeping through the night. He loved (still loves) to laugh, especially at his daddy. There's something perfect about the goofy relationship between those two.

And now we have this year. And I don't want to forget any of it.
Every morning when I get Milo out of bed, he says "uh-oh" until we reach back in and grab his lion and his blanket. He always wants to cuddle for a few minutes right out of bed (and I always want to cuddle for longer). He gets out his cars, then his blocks, then his train track, then his ABC puzzle. His favorite book is the one with cars and trains and airplanes. He loves having his milk in the morning, and he will stand at the fridge and say "mama" until I get it for him. He says please and thank you. He always wants to go outside, even when it's freezing. He grabs his shoes ("gshhhh") and has me put them on (I can always get free kisses when I'm putting his shoes on, because that's when he likes me most), and then stands at the door and says "ou-ide?". He loves to help me take out the trash and get the mail. He's the worst at eating, still. He likes cheese, wheat thins, chicken, cottage cheese, and bananas the best, but above all, milk.

He finally will hold my hand, but spends more time trying to get away than walking with me happily. He loves doing butt busters on solid ground. It's the funniest thing. He squeals when he's excited. He says "see ya" and "bye bye" to all the cars, and to anyone who's leaving. He says "daddy?" whenever he hears a car pull up. He gives good kisses, unless I've reached my kiss quota for the day. Then he smacks me in the head when I try. He loves when I stand behind him and sneak attack pull him in to me. Then he gets up, stands in front of me (facing away), and waits for me to do it again. He loves being thrown in the air. He will stand in front of me and say "one? two?" until I pick him up and throw him (repeat, repeat, repeat). I love the way he says, "there he is!" (which sounds like "ee-eesh") regardless of whether we are playing peek a boo or he finds a cracker in his carseat. He loves the bath. He helps pick up his toys at the end of the day. We start with the roads, then the legos, then the blocks, then the dinosaurs. He's such a good helper!

He finally loves reading stories. He will go grab one and stand at my legs until we read it. I am always game for story time! He is so silly. He likes to giggle at people. When he's praying, he peeks and laughs at everyone. He just can't hold it all in, and I love it. He makes loud car noises all through church. Nursery is hit and miss, but he does ok. I don't love leaving him, but I know it's good for him. I love how he gets shy in front of strangers. He has this sly little smile that he does when he's trying not to. When he dances, he does the Charlie Brown dance. You know the one. I didn't teach him that. It's all him. He loves carrying around his lion everywhere he goes. He throws things, and spins, and laughs, and jumps. He says, "oh wow!" like it's his job about anything exciting. He laughs when he pees in the bathtub. So do I. Can't help it.

He loves looking out the window, exploring, and playing. He's curious about the world and has to climb everything, push every button, check everything out. He likes me close and I like him close. He's cheerful and we can read each other like books thanks to the countless hours we spend together. He brings me more joy than I ever thought life could give. This boy of mine is just that- ALL boy. I wouldn't have it any other way. And then there's nights like last night (more often than not) that I look at him sleeping and I get overwhelmed by how much I love my munch. Watching him so perfect and cute and unique and special in his little santa jams. My heart just explodes, all the time. Being a boy mom is all it's cracked up to be. There's so much love here.

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