HMB turns ONE

One.  Little HMB, you are one.  This is a big deal.  A whole year you have been in our lives.  I want to say that 95% of that time we have called you Meyer the Destroyer.  You continue to hold true to this name.  Though G is a busy dude who was up and mobile super early, I didn’t do much baby proofing.  You, however, are testing those limits.  You want into everything.  Everywhere.  You have recently, in the last week or 2, learned to throw fits when you don’t get what you want.  Griffin tried to keep you out of the kitchen cabinet the other day and you pushed him and screamed.  All 19 lbs of you.  You want me to hold you.  Lots.  You want what you want and you want it NOW. 

You do not talk as much as your brother, but realistically, who does?   No one.  Except my nephew.  You have started giving kisses.  You make the really sweet mmmmmmmmmm sound.  It’s adorable.  You also want me to pretend eat all of  your food.  I shouldn’t have started this.  I eat a lot of your food.  This is not helping with baby weight, dude.  I do love graham crackers, though.  I gave you peanut butter for the first time the other day and then watched you closely for an hour to make sure you weren’t dying.  You weren’t.  You go to bed around 6:30 (which you would prefer to be earlier.)  You LOVE your bath and splashing.  You wake up once a night to nurse.  You say, “weaning, what’s that?”  You are pretty anti weaning.   That’s another post for another time.  You usually wake up between 6:30 and 7 am.  You are down to one nap a day.  You sleep from about 1-2:30.  You put everything in your mouth.  Everything.  You want to climb the bed and play around on it like brother does.  However, you can’t seem to realize there are edges and you will fall off.  You crawl, quickly.  You really want Gizmo to be your friend.  He isn’t.  He is not happy with your choice of dedicated friendship.  You eat blueberries like they are going out of style.  Fruit.  You hate milk.  Except when you don’t.  I think you are pretty adorable.  Your brother loves you and wants you to do what he says.  I think he feels the same about me.  Sorry dude.  I think you could walk.  You refuse.  You have stood up unassisted for a good 10 seconds before you realize what is happening and then collapse to the ground.  Tricky.  Granted, I don’t mind carrying you around.  Too much.  You have zero interested in baby toys.  Zero.  We need to pack them up and send them elsewhere.  You love to cruise around furniture and turn and smile.  Peekaboo is a fun fun game.  You don’t always realize you need to put your hands over your eyes and do more of a hands on your head number.  You had a while where you crawled up to the bathroom and pushed everything sitting on the side of the tub in.  Helpful.  You LOVE your paci’s.  You have them at bedtime.  But, should you see one out when it isn’t bed time you beeline.  It’s precious.

Words.  Hi.  Mama.  Da.  (dog) Da (dad).  Bubba.  Juice (I think you said this yesterday) and Bath.  Nananana (no.)  You have said nana.  You seem to say things when you want and just don’t if you don’t want to.  You are a man with gusto. 

You are the 25% in height and weight with your head measuring at a good ol’ 50%.  Just like your NeeNee.

I had to change your birthday party because SXSW coincided.  Sorry dude.  You don't seem to mind. 

We love you.  Lots.  We don't love the shrieking that you have recently acquired.  

Don't ever change.  Except the word thing.  Oh, and always love your mama.