30 December 2009

Ode to a One Year Old

Dear Eamon Munro Bennett Wolfe,

Hiya, Birthday Boy (okay, I’m a day late. Soooo sorry. But as you know, we were traveling home from vacation yesterday, and then there were suitcases to unpack, and naps to be had, and well, you know).

So, when I was younger, my dad (ie, your Grandpa) used to build computers. He always had spare computer parts lying around, and sometimes I would wake up and there would just be this extra whole working computer sitting there. I don’t know how he did it, but suddenly it was like this computer had always been there.

Sometimes I feel that’s what happened to your Dad and myself. It’s amazing, really, to think that you—something so fabulous and wonderful—came from spare parts. That one day your Mom and Dad got it into their silly little heads that hey! what this place needs is a BABY, whoop—we up and had one.

And now, I can’t imagine a time when you didn’t exist. No, seriously, I was just having this discussion with your father the other day. I honestly cannot comprehend sleeping in until, I dunno, WHENEVER, just because I could. I can’t imagine going somewhere and not packing the kitchen sink with me, and I can’t remember what it was like to go somewhere without budgeting in naptime.

BUT, I also can’t remember getting up in the morning and not cuddling you as you slurp down your milk. I can’t fathom a world without the sound of your staccato chuckle quietly ringing through the air. I really don’t remember how I existed before I saw your smile, the one that lights up your eyes, your face, and the entire room.

I guess what I’m trying to say is—I love you, man. And I can’t wait for all the many years to come.

17 December 2009

Eamon vs Bedtime

A chair just my size!
If you have paid attention to this blog, there are few, if any pictures of our precious boy upset. This mainly due to the fact that he is generally a happy kid. Smiley, good natured, and happy. Eamon has a tendency to complain (or voice his unhappiness) when there is something really wrong- not just for the sake of pouting or general grumpiness.
Ready for bath-time!
As he approaches his first birthday, he had settled into his routines and is content. He loves the water, in any form- which is pretty remarkable considering his first foray into the pool was less than encouraging. His latest interests are removing things from cabinets, shutting and opening doors, and fooling with the remote. Ok, the remote is not new, but now he has figured out that pressing the buttons causes the TV to do things, which is great fun.
Playing with the computer keyboard
Dogs are HILARIOUS. Dogs running are MORE hilarious. Nesta does not find nearly as much entertainment in Eamon as he does in her. Climbing in and out of Nesta's crate is always an adventure. And he's perfectly happy going up stairs, not so confident with the going down part.

The one constant here is that he finds great joy in almost all walks of life. Almost. He does pretty well with the car, but is growing more and more wary of going from place to place. Methinks this is due to the fact that he can't explore, move around, and remove things from other things while strapped into the seat.
Splashing is FUN!!!!
The car has nothing on bedtime. When we go into his room for his bedtime ritual of changing, reading and singing (me, not him, silly), he transforms from the lovable, laughing kid we all adore to a screaming mess. No amount of "near and far" or blowing raspberries can break him out of his emphatic dislike for disrobing and getting ready for bed.

So for all of you that secretly curse us for our (usually) mild-tempered, happy-go-lucky guy, I submit the following:

Of course, even while expressing his displeasure at getting ready for bedtime, he can still stop and mug for the camera.