The Big ONE

Namastè!

Y'all.

My. Baby. Will. Be. ONE. Soon.

And good morning, where are my manners?!

He's turning one soon. My little baby.

Before I became a parent  I didn't bat an eye to see babies grow up at light speed. It was kinda interesting, but it didn't really move me. It's kind of a mom thing and I wasn't a mom, so I didn't feel anything except mild annoyance when women would cry over birthday cakes and single-candled smash cakes.

Also, what the heck was a smash cake; who would buy a cake for someone who couldn't eat it?!

Fast forward ten years, two biological kids, and two adoptions later.

As I stare down the barrel of Baby Namastè's big ONE, I am a mess. I am a tangled ball of happiness, fear, apprehension, joy, and sadness. I actually discussed with my twin mama Brit, creating an extra month between January and February so the babies could put off being ONE for at least an extra 31 or 72 days. (It's my month, that I made--who says it has to be 31 days?! Don't box me in!)

Alas...I have designed and prepared to create his smash cake. Smash cakes are totally a thing, and I am totally on board. Imagine that!

I am torn between reveling in the fact that this joyful, precious, precocious little prince is mine; and grieving the fact that my baby boy is no longer a baby but barreling full-speed into toddlerhood. Each day he is closer to being more independent. Each day he is absorbing and processing more and more about the world, and it feels as if there is less and less I can shield him from. When he got his first boo-boo ouchie, a generic bump of his arm via a too-fast exodus from one room to another starring the reckless youthful exuberance  older babies thrive on, I cried more than he did.

I know bumps and bruises happen, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I messed up. Until he became mobile, he legitimately never got so much as a rough jostle. I make it my business to care very deliberately and above all very gently for my little ones, specifically when they are tiny and new. Mommy equals love, and I convey it (or try to) every way possible. So to know that my son felt pain  bugged me, more than it should have I suppose.

As he begins walking, talking, running--straight toward independence, right into not needing us as much--it wrecks me, yet makes me so proud.

I'm so proud of my mothering experience this time, just like before with Princess Namastè. (I raised her primarily on my own for 5 years, and while I was always afraid single parenting would scar or ruin her, it decidedly did not.)

I have nearly met my nursing goal. While I will continue as long as reasonably possible, this first year has been of the utmost importance for me. I have seen benefits of it, and I feel great to have been able to overcome the initial issues (shallow latch, tongue tie, and a tiny little mouth) and later, nursing strikes. Baby Namastè's not really into solids just yet, so I am confident we will hit that one year mark of him getting liquid gold, the wonderful noms from his moms. I won't even pretend it's been easy, or that I haven't gone so far as to purchase a $40 can of formula when it seemed like this leg of the journey was ending, but I will let you know it was all worth it. He has never had an ear infection, never been to the emergency room, never had an extra pediatrician appointment  aside from the normal checkups. Outside regressions, he sleeps well. He doesn't have the chunky baby rolls I so desired, but he is strong, healthy, and happy. (Fed is best but breast reigns around here, and I'm always happy to share what I've learned!)

Looking at photos of my tiny newborn and comparing them to my swift, strong almost-toddler brings about a wild mix of happiness and sadness, but also an overwhelming sense of hope.

This kid will grow up to do amazing things. He will learn. He will master. He will improve!

...and turning ONE is just the beginning.

As I sit here vacillating between Paw Patrol and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse portfolios--puppy cakes or Oreo mouse ear cupcakes?!--I begin to feel more excitement than dread. While my little baby is no more, I am gradually learning my big boy, my toddler! I am sure to miss those baby snuggles. I am certain to look back on those sleepy nighttime nursing seshes and miss the closeness. (Night feedings were our special thing, because we rarely woke Daddy.)

But I look forward to mommy-son lunches ar Chick-fil-A and play dates in the park with Lainey. I'm excited to take him to the Disney Store in New York City, to see those big pretty (still grey!) eyes shine with wonder in Times Square. We have his next year of travel planned and plotted and are busting at the seams because while he's been these places before, he will now be old enough to really take in the sights and sounds. I've already ordered his noise-cancelling headphones for those subway jaunts and helicopter rides. This child is joining the ranks of jet-setters who go, go, go--almost nonstop.

Yes...the big ONE.

I am ready for you. Today anyway. I now fully understand, maybe OVERstand, why it's such a monumental thing. I won't be going overboard for a party, but the experiences and travel I have slated for him will be nothing short of amazing. I cannot wait to show him the world.

So mommas...let's celebrate these ONES! We are marking not only a birthday BUT cementing the fact that we are fully amazing. The first year is the toughest, encompassing the most rapid changes and milestones. And we made it.

Namastè!

-- Tayè K. ♡

Post scriptum: Don't forget the Milk Nursingwear Giveaway! There's still time to enter. Go here and secure your chance!