Sunday, April 10, 2016

2016, the year of birthday blogs


Asher woke up at 5 this morning, ready to take on the world, as usual.  I’m not ready for anything at 5 am, so it was Brendan to the rescue.  When I finally rolled my big belly out of bed and let B sub out, I asked Asher what he wanted to do with his last day of being one.

His response? “Ummmm, breakfast!”

Duh, Mama.

Two years ago today and 10 days past his due date, Brendan and I were so impatiently waiting for our stubborn baby boy to make an appearance. I thought he would never come.

One year ago we were dumbfounded over how much a tiny human could learn and grow over the course of 12 short months, and we were still learning how to function on no sleep.  We were in awe of his sweet demeanor, his inability to grow hair, and his obsession with food.

Our little adventurer continues to amaze us.  This year he’s been a trooper on his first cross country trek, more plane rides than he can count, braving (and embracing) winter in Alaska, and growing a mullet.

I never got around to making him a baby book. Shutterfly literally couldn’t make it any easier, and I still find myself incapable of creating a book of memories of my baby’s first years. Maybe someday he’ll get a book, but for now he’s getting a paragraph on the blog.

A few current Asher-isms:

He’s still stubborn as hell, a total goof, and the ultimate snuggler.

He’s mastered repeating all the words we don’t want him to, and still fights sleep until the last possible second.

He makes sure his baby doll is fed, burped, and changed...and kicks his baby sister back when he feels her kick inside my belly. 

He’s obsessed with babies, planes, brushing his teeth, pizza, "helping" in the kitchen, Elmo, and whatever Daddy is doing.
 
He insists daily that the Alaskan climate is conducive to not wearing any clothes.

His favorite phrases are “DEFENSE,” when he’s shooting hoops in the hallway and cheering on the basketball teams at school; “I need help,” especially when he doesn’t; “I carry you,” when he wants to be picked up; and ”Holy sh*t...” because is there a more appropriate way for a toddler to express astonishment?

Two years ago we thought I was going to pregnant forever.  A year ago we thought he’d never learn to sleep.  A month ago I was damn sure the kid was NEVER going to stop nursing, and now I’m feeling pretty confident in the assumption that he’ll never stop surprising us, making us laugh hysterically, or filling our hearts to capacity.

I’m currently creepily watching him nap, and blubbering over how much he has grown. He’ll probably wake up soon and insist I blow my nose, then demand the birthday cake he’s been asking about for weeks. (The one that’s not made yet.)


Happy Birthday, sweet Asher Cale. We can’t wait to see what the next year brings.