Dear Matthias

Somehow, time stole a year from me and you turned one yesterday.

One. You're a toddler now, climbing, crawling, and walking all over the place. It hardly feels like a year has passed. I remember well the five days of early labor and hard labor I went through with you (more to come on that when you're old enough for your father to tell you how cranky I was at the end of those five days). I remember the day you were born, when the doctor checked to see how my labor was progressing and she got a look of concern on her face. A few seconds later, she told me there was too much blood and we had a real potential problem on our hands.

I remember how fast they wheeled me to the operating room for an emergency cesarean, and how I did my best to stay calm while I was prepped for surgery and waited for your dad to come in and hold my hand. I remember feeling better when he got there, how he kept peering over the curtain that separated my top half from my bottom half, and how I thought about firing our OB on the spot when she announced that you looked like him.

And I remember how none of that mattered when you were delivered and your dad held your blinking, fresh face to mine so we could meet each other. You were so precious.

This year has been wonderful, and I can't believe how fast you're growing up and trying to conquer the world. You started crawling at six months old. You started walking at almost one year old. You have 15 teeth already and you're gums are swelling for your two-year-old molars. You can crawl up and climb down our stairs at lightening speed. At your birthday dinner yesterday, you refused to eat until you finally got hold of a fork and could feed yourself. Minus the few bites that ended up in your hair, you did surprisingly well. It was as if you knew a milestone had arrived and you were going to take things up a notch.

You got a new little chair for your birthday yesterday, and you love it. I love that for once, you seem to have stopped fighting me, your dad, and your brother (mostly your brother) for a spot in the recliner. I'd love to share the recliner with you, but you're seldom happy unless you have that big, giant chair to yourself. Frankly, I'm not sure you know you're little.

Forgive me if I try to make you stay small from time to time. I'm prone to doing that. But I'm looking forward to watching you grow up, too. You're pretty amazing.

Love,
Mom