My One-Year-Old Boys

When my cowboy turned one, we had a party. He swam with his daddy. He ate a little green birthday cake.
He was
walking,
talking,
skinny,
social,
sleeping through the night,
napping alone,
spending the night at Grammie's,
riding horses,
and,
most important,
happy and loved.

My wild thing turned one, and we had a party. He threw up on me multiple times and went to urgent care. He played balls with his daddy. He destroyed a little green birthday cake (though the color was coincidence).
He is
crawling,
cruising,
talking,
social,
shy when mommy's not around,
nursing through the night,
napping with mommy,
chubby,
exploratory,
and,
most important,
happy and loved.

My wild thing is not my cowboy. They are different and alike. They are both occupying my heart. They are loved. I read a quote the other day that had the dsfinition of a mother. It said she will hold you in her heart until her last breath. I read it as, "...until your last breath." And thought it was a vast underestimation. She will remember you so far beyond that. It made me sad because I know things about mothering that many don't. I know that this birthday, this day, is worth remembering. You could have thousands of todays together or this one could be the last.