Can't believe I have a one-year-old

I had such major birthday anxiety, and I blame Pinterest, and maybe the moms group  board on Facebook that I’m in – so many banners, themes, custom outfits, and all manner of other things that give me anxiety.  I did not inherit the crafty gene.  Or the pre-planning gene. Or the organized gene.

So in true Ira’s-mama fashion, I threw us together a birthday party in about an hour on a Sunday morning.  I picked up chicken from Mr. C’s a delicious cake from Harris Teeter (and a smash cake, so it could be a true one-year-old birthday party).  Nana made green beans and potato salad and we called it a day.

At first you were a little skeptical about what to do with the smash cake, but then you dove in full force and just put your whole head down in the cake.  At one point I’m pretty sure you were trying to nurse the cake. Awesome.

You were so exhausted after that and you were absolutely covered in blue icing.  I’m talking blue icing in your hair, blue icing in your ears, blue icing in your shoes.  It required a major bath while all the guests were still there because it was pretty rough. 

Pam, Jessica, Tim, Blakely, and all of your grandparents, plus Nana and Pa-pa came.  It was fantastic!

I think everyone thought a magic switch would flip when you turned one and you would automatically start walking on your own, but that didn’t happen, and I’m perfectly okay with that.  I think I could say that you were *capable* of walking at that point, but it definitely didn’t happen spontaneously as a means of transportation until probably April 8 or so (so a little after you turned 13 months old).

You also started sleeping through the night with *some* amount of consistency about two weeks after you turned one.  You’ve all but stopped nursing, which makes me sad, but I know it’s what has to happen.  My goal was always one year plus however long you wanted to go beyond that, so I guess I can say we made our goal.  It doesn’t make it any easier when I offer and you stick your paci back in and roll over to go to sleep though!  I can convince you to nurse but it’s hit and miss.  

 You still let me wear you, but you prefer to be on my back.  It's fun until you start pulling my hair (I think in an attempt to get me to go faster.)

 You'll still fall asleep on me...and it's still the sweetest thing ever.

The climbing.  Lord help us all, the climbing. You're a mountain goat.

You love your Chillafish quadie bike.  And you're so darn adorable on that thing.

What you love more than that is snacks.  Snacks snacks snacks.  You require me to pack snacks like we are going on a three day camping adventure to go on a three mile walk.  

You also (after months of ignoring stuffed animals) have taken a new interest in Frank.

Every age you've gotten to has been my new favorite, but I swear this one really is.  You're a mess and you're into everything, but it's also so much fun to watch you navigate new situations, laugh at things you think are funny, and try to say new words.  You have quite a few these days - Nana, Dada, Mama, Baba (which is what you call Poppa), cheese, yeah, boo, boom (which you use when you wrestle on the bed pillows with someone), out, up, and Sue.  We love you so much, little friend!