One

I just put the birthday boy to bed.  It took me a little longer than normal to release him from our nightly cuddle.  He was unusually content to lie there on my arm and gaze at me, which is pretty much how we spent the evening one year ago.

We had his one-year checkup today, which was rough on everyone.  Six shots and a blood draw that took two attempts.  The official stats:

Length: 32 inches (still off the charts)
Weight: 24lbs 14oz (between 90 and 95th percentile)
Head circumference: 48cm (90th percentile)

I remarked that he was getting tall and skinny like daddy.  The doctor responded, deadpan: "He's not skinny."  There may have been a reference to thunder thighs.

Fall must be baby season, because there were several brand-new babies waiting at the office for their first checkups.  I remember distinctly feeling at that point like we had no idea what we were doing, but were faking it really well.  It's been a year now . . . does that feeling ever go away?

The biggest parenting surprise for me has been how fast each of the phases passes.  When you get pregnant, you get a vision in your head of what it will be like to have a baby, and it seems like the entire first year, or at least a significant part of it, will involve taking care of that baby.  You also think you'll have time to get good at taking care of that particular version of your baby.  Personally, I pictured a crawling baby and making pureed baby foods.  Turned out that each of those phases just lasted a few weeks.  I didn't have time to make my own baby food, let alone get good at it, before Henry moved on to solid foods.  He crawled for such a short period of time that I don't even have many particularly vivid memories of him doing it.

The other (and wonderful) surprise has been how many different ways the little guy can make me happy.  Of course there is the delicious sweetness of a sleepy baby on my chest in a darkened room.  The times when we've laughed so hard at him that I've cried (for Karl's reference, I'm thinking of the lava poop and baby business time).  The surge of pride when he does something new for the first time, then invariably looks up at us with big eyes and a big grin.  Lately, when he starts to walk somewhere, and holds his hand up and outstretched because he wants to hold my hand even though he doesn't need the support anymore.  The hard parts are roughly what I expected: less sleep, tension with work, frustration when one of us wakes up on the wrong side of the crib.  But the good comes in so many unexpected forms that it keeps me addicted to the little man, even when he's being difficult.  I'd be happy to do this year over and over again.

Our little toddler is so different from the sleepy little nugget that arrived a year ago, but I suspect Karl and I have changed just as much in the last year.  The first year is the year that makes you a parent, both in the obvious sense -- wait, I'm that small, screaming person's mother? -- and in the quiet way that builds over time, eventually coloring every aspect of your life, in the same way that the first year of medical school makes you a hypochondriac and the first year of law school teaches you to be cynical and obnoxious think like a lawyer.   Though I think we have done a pretty decent job this year of performing at work, seeing our friends, and keeping up the house, virtually everything we do revolves around Henry in some way -- racing home from work to see him, making friend dates after bedtime, buying furniture with a toddler in mind, not to mention talking about him all the time.  I wouldn't change it for the world.

Happy birthday, little man.  We can't wait to see what the next year will bring.