Birthday Wishes and Cake Dreams

I've not written anything for a couple of weeks in this journal. For future reference, in case you ever read this in the future, Jake, know that your father and I spent many hours planning your first birthday party to perfection. Now that I have a few quiet moments for contemplation, I find that I have mixed feelings about this milestone.


EVERY NEW BEGINNING...

Our house has never looked better. Dan and I installed new mini-blinds in most windows, painted the remainder of the main entry and hallway walls, hung most of the wall hangings, framed and hung Jake's studio portraits, rearranged all the furniture, packed the remaining unpacked boxes in the spare bedroom and basement, bought new linens for the master bedroom and the main bathroom, and cleaned, cleaned, cleaned as though our lives depended on it. We ordered Jake's birthday cake and balloons, planned the party menu, delegated some food preparation to family members, and wrapped all Jake's birthday presents. By the end of that week, we were barely running on fumes. But the day of the event was a wonderful success, and what's amazing for us is that we actually managed to relax and enjoy the festivities ourselves.

Poor little Jake was so hyped with the flurry of pre-party activities that he wasn't able to take his morning nap. So by the time the guests arrived, he was rubbing his little eyes like crazy. My mom fed him a bottle and he napped while everyone ate. An hour later I woke him up, and once he got over the grumpy period of "I can't believe you woke me up", he was entranced at having such a large audience. His lunch consisted mainly of a large helping of birthday cake. Jake nibbled and messed happily as he looked wondrously around at everyone filming, taking pictures, and proudly cheering on his efforts. Clearly, Jake was in heaven.

After his cake luncheon, present-opening began. Jake half-heartedly tore at one package's wrappings only to wander off and play with his riding toys, much to the chagrin of his parents and the delight of his cousins, who then assumed the all-important duty of tearing wrapping paper off enthusiastically. To the amusement of everyone present, the youngest cousin even responded to my prompts to Jake to "Say thank you, Grandma" by shouting out "Thank you, Grandma". Hilariously, he did this for both sides of the family, even thanking perfect strangers he had just met with endearments like Aunt and Uncle and Granny. So Jake had his own Official Present Openers and Thankers. Wonder if the cousins would be willing to drop by and help with the thank you notes as well?

So Jake threw his first successful party, with the help of many others. It's now official; he's no longer a baby. From now on, everything will be repeats. No more first Christmases, first Halloweens, first Valentines. Oh, I know that everything is still fresh and new to his mind, it's just that I see some of that wonder and awe now being replaced by familiarity and confidence. Not that it's a bad thing, mind you, but it is definitely a new era around here.


... COMES FROM SOME OTHER BEGINNING'S END

To swipe Semisonic's semi-philosophical end about the cyclic nature of life, the end of babyhood is necessary to begin toddlerhood, which must end to begin childhood, etc. What goes up must come down.

Now, before I'm accused of becoming maudlin, or the fact is pointed out that not too long ago on this very journal I wished for Jake's rapid advancement into childhood, let me say that I do not retract the previous statement. I am still very much looking forward to the fun we'll have together in the years to come. I guess right now I'm just having a moment of sentimentality concerning all the baby things we'll be leaving behind soon forever.

I'll miss the way he snuggles in my arms while sucking down a bottle. I'll miss how when Jake nursed, he used to get this look of drugged-out ecstasy on his little face. I'll miss the way Jake would stare intently into the eyes of whoever held him, like he was trying to figure the person out. I'll definitely miss the way he used to actually lie still during diaper changes... no wrestling involved! I'll miss how soft his skin used to be before it got roughed up from crawling and climbing everywhere.

At the same time, there are things I WON'T miss about Jake's babyhood. I won't miss how his boredom and frustration in the car seat led to endless screaming on car trips. I won't miss how easily Jake would awaken from sound sleep when I tried to carefully lay him in his crib for a nap. I won't miss all the times I frantically tried to figure out WHY he was crying again, and the helpless feelings it caused. And above all, I won't miss that sleepless haze we stumbled through at the beginning.

So I realize that wishing away the discomforts of infancy also wished away some of the joys. Soon I won't be stuck for hours on end holding him to comfort him, but then I won't have much opportunity to cuddle an active toddler. Soon I won't have to continually prop a bottle in his mouth, but then Jake will be an independent little person who will want to do it himself. Soon I won't have to carry his heavy weight everywhere, but then he'll be running out of my reach. Soon I won't be able to cuddle him whenever I want, but then soon I'll be able to hear those words I've waited a lifetime to hear: "Mommy, I love you." And yes, those more experienced parents out there are saying now, "Just wait until he's old enough to say 'Mommy, I hate you'." But let's just take these stages one at a time, shall we? Otherwise I MIGHT become downright maudlin, and in my current state of sentimentality, I'm not willing to look that far down the road just yet. So...


HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, JAKE!

It's been a wonderful year. Life is so much better with you around. It's like discovering dessert for the first time, or riding that first roller coaster, or falling in love for the first time. You've got us all swoony and giddy and wowed. All of your family and friends love you very much, but Daddy and I love you the most!