I Want to Remember...

{photography by LibbyAsayStudio.com}

To our sweet firstborn on your first birthday...

Daddy works hard so I've had the privilege of staying home with you for your whole first year...just the two of us all the time, all the days, having all the fun, and drinking all the milk (you) and coffee (me). There is so much I want to remember...

Here's a little something to help us all remember your precious first year of life.

Your entrance into the world couldn't have been more perfect. You took your time, but it was good you went easy on me because daddy wouldn't have been able to handle another ounce of stress, Maverick. And I'd like to thank you for that also. Our time in the hospital was like a vacation...pure newborn bliss. I will always remember your gray terrycloth, raccoon sleeper and how you were the best-smelling, cuddliest little thing I'd ever held. I couldn't believe you were finally here and you were ours.

It was hard for me move around at first, so I instructed daddy on how to stage your first picture...the one we sent to our family and friends with your name and birth stats all laid out on your special blanket from Great Grandma and Granapa Degroot...and what happened to be your first official Instagram! When we look back at that picture Dad is still so proud at how good of a job he did 'arranging' everything and placing you in just the right spot.

That baby scent is one of the most indescribable things I've ever smelled. You. Smelled. So. Good. Daddy would come home, still filthy from work, and come over to us on the couch just to take a big sniff. Even as a one-year-old, you STILL smell amazing. Something about your sweet cheeks, and neck, and your baby breath...all smells exactly how a little baby Maverick should smell. I will remember it forever.

For the first week of your life...G'ma was here hanging out with us. She vacuumed because I couldn't and she did the laundry and the dishes because she's awesome and she fed me so I could focus on feeding you. Then she left when you were about seven days old and as soon as she closed the door, I looked at daddy and then I looked at you and cried because for the first time in your life, the three of us were alone together and it was so perfect...watching How I Met Your Mother...eating frozen pizza...just like we'd done for the past five years, except now we had a cuddly baby Maverick in our arms. It was also the first time I'd cried...well...since you had gotten here, so I figured I was due. I think you might appreciate being raised by a mom who is about as unemotional as they come. You're welcome in advance.

For the months that followed, we spent most of our days cuddled up in the living room watching a lot of Today Show and Gilmore Girls. You were so content and easy. Unless we had somewhere to be, we usually stayed in pajamas until noon (sometimes all day). Every morning after you ate, I would prop you up on my knees and we would spend some time looking at each other. I taught you the Iowa State Fight Song (and then realized I probably should have been singing you a Hymn or a worship music or something, but it was football season...so just, ok?) and tried to get as many smiles out of you as possible. I'd send tons of pictures to daddy. You fit so perfectly on my lap when we sat that way, but you don't any more.

You should know, more nights than not...daddy and I can be found Netflixing on the couch with a bag of chips...and scrolling through old Instagrams and videos of you. I'll show him one and he'll go, "OOOOO babe he was so little. Look at his little eyebrows. That's when his hair was so dark! This was the first time he smiled! I didn't cuddle him enough when he was that tiny." And it's adorable. Things get even more out of hand when Aunt Jamie is here because she asks to watch what we refer to as, "The Spinach Video" and we play it five times in a row and DIE laughing at the silly faces you make. If dad is having a bad day, all I have to do is send him that video (or one of the other million I have) and he's instantly cheered up.

I want to remember your first two, little, happy teeth and the way you smile when you're just beside yourself with excitement. This usually happens when we play the 'Where's mommy?' game or when you see your daddy walk through the door. It's like you just want to jump out of your skin because you're so happy and excited. I've never seen a bigger, more ridiculous smile. Sometimes you're so excited you bury your head in my armpit and pinch my arm skin really hard or pat, pat, pat me all over. You love patting stuff. I want to remember how cute that is.

We've had some rough nights this past year. Probably only 20 really, really bad ones. I always felt like I did a pretty good job of handling your (by six months) unnecessary 2am eating demands with more grace than I'm accustomed to giving. I'd feed you and read mom blogs and Instagrams about enjoying every minute of your baby's first year, "because it goes by so fast" and I would sit back in that soft gray rocker and think...I am. I am completely, genuinely enjoying this. No one else gets this time with you except me, and I can never get it back...you would finish eating, I'd sit you up and you would actually conk your head onto my shoulder to pass out and cuddle. I'd rock and cuddle you for as long as I could, trying not to focus on the minutes of sleep I was losing while I rocked, until sleep finally won and I'd put you back in your crib. I remember the last few weeks of your 4/5/6am morning breakfast...by now the only time you'd give in and truly cuddle me. As you were getting better at sleeping through the night (cough cough...at ELEVEN MONTHS) I'd think, 'maybe this will be the last time we cuddle like this...' eventually it happened, though I don't remember exactly when it was...I know I enjoyed every second of it.

Your soft spot gets smaller by the day. Your tummy and cheeks have gotten chubbier and a little double-chin has started to appear. You sit up all by yourself in the bath tub. You get heavy in my arms when I tote you in and out of the grocery store. And your legs are so long you don't fit easily on my lap when I feed you...you look like such a big boy in your pajamas and daddy and I look at you and literally can't believe our baby is gone. We have a little boy now.

I remember our first fight. It was over black beans. You were 'done' and probably getting bored in your high chair, so you started jabbering and singing and throwing all your beans on the floor. I looked at you and said, 'No Maverick' in a much different voice than you're used to. We've been practicing this 'no' word more and more. You looked at me seriously and threw another one down. I came over and flicked your little arm. The shock on your face would have probably made your daddy cry right then and there. You didn't cry, but you did do it again. So I flicked harder...this time I left a little red mark. You yelled at me...but still didn't get it. Another black bean hit the floor. This time I flicked your leg, and you finally understood. But the panic and tears and cries that followed...they were not my favorite, Maverick. I know this is the first of maaaaany hard disciplining lessons we both have to learn, but we'll figure out together.

We wind up at stores a lot. Whether it's Fareway for groceries, antique shops with Nana, Van Wall errands for daddy, or Target because...MOM LOVES TARGET...I have so much fun hiding from you, kissing you, running with the cart because you like to go fast, or throwing the cart ahead of me while I chase you and you scream for the whole store to hear. You are a big hit with people everywhere we go...it's like you can spot a grandma or a grandpa from a mile away and you know it will make their day if you flash them a smile or give them a happy-scream. Once I said to G'ma, "I'm not sure everybody makes out with their baby in Lowe's like I do, but whatever."  I want to remember how much fun we have playing together, wherever we go.

I want to remember the sweet, small, white birthmark that appeared behind your left knee in July after we'd been hitting the pool hard and your legs finally had a good tan going. It was the cutest little surprise. The way you give me the sweetest cuddles right before I lay you down for a nap...the way you know what 'Kiss Mommy' means...the way you play catch with whoever will sit down and throw a ball your way...and the way you scoot and in reverse to get where you want to go...I so desperately want to remember it all.

Ever since you were tiny, at least once a day while dad is at work, I hand the phone to you to talk to him. He can't see your reaction but it is. the. sweetest thing ever. You LIGHT up at the sound of his voice going 'Dadadadada, Maverick say dadadada!' on the other end and it melts my heart to see how much you know and love your daddy, even though we don't get to see him much.

I want to remember the hilarious face you made when you had your first tastes of food...I believe it was a lemon, Chick-Fil-A sauce, and avocado (I won't be winning any mom awards for those being your first tastes). I want to remember your expression when you saw and touched a baby kitty for the first time...you were calm and unsure, but had a sweet little G'pa Harm side-smile and a look of complete wonder. The way you sit straight up in your stroller when we go by a dog/bird/bunny/squirrel on our neighborhood walks is still hilarious to me and dad...he always goes, "Look! It's Maverick at the helm!" and I laugh even though I've heard him say it 93 times. And your love of water...I could not. be. happier. about this. Everything from the sprinkler, to the kitchen faucet, to a pond/fountain/lake/pool, to your bath, to watching the washer start up when we do laundry together in the mornings...I absolutely love how excited and happy you get around water. You've loved your bath since your first week at home and nothing about that has changed.

When it's time for you to play on the floor I sprawl your toys out to keep you busy while I work around the house. But for the past few weeks, you spend all your time picking up your toys and putting them back in your toy box. Then you get mad because everything is put away (hilarious). So I get everything back out, just for you to put it away all over again. This might be my new favorite trick you do (clapping, high fives, and waving are also starting to make their appearance these days) because it's like you already know your mama loves a clean house. So before each nap, and at the end of each day, we pick up your toys together! Just another sign that you're becoming a smart little boy instead of a baby.

People ask if I miss my job...or having something else to 'do' besides, well...you. And my answer a million times over is absolutely not. I miss the people I worked with...but wow. This year has been my favorite of life so far. People ask if being a mom is everything I thought it would be...and my answer is, well...yes. I knew it would be hard and tiring, but you've always been so easy and sweet and content (typing that scares me, but it's been true of our first year together!). It makes having a good attitude about cleaning up the mess in/under/around your high chair three times a day overall a lot easier (share this with your future siblings). So thanks for that and please keep it up for the next 17 years.

Being a mom is weird because it's the easiest and hardest thing I've ever done all at once...the "momming" I get to do with you, that's the easy stuff (for now anyway). Diapers and midnight feedings and sleep training and teething are All The Things I expected as part of my new mom-gig. Daddy works long, hard days so it's not his job to come home and change your diapers and feed you supper. I LOVE that it's my job. I AM SO LUCKY. It's the balancing act between remembering to get the oil changed, the bathrooms cleaned, the property taxes paid, rent collected, invoicing done, W2's printed, applications for stuff submitted, credit cards paid...that's the kind of stuff I would like to outsource to a duplicated, smarter version of myself. One who is actually naturally good at bookeeping because it. is. a. struggle. for me. All my mommy brain wants to focus on is YOU! For this first year, I suppose that's probably not a bad thing.

So this is the honest truth...out of everything I get to do in life, being your mommy is by far the easiest role I have. It's like...I know I was born to do this, to be a mommy...YOUR mommy. And finally getting to do what God created me to do...it's been so wonderful and fulfilling and tiring and awesome. Just been one heck of a year, BabyMav.

Thanks for making us parents, Maverick. Happy First Birthday peanut.