365 days
One year ago today at this exact moment a doctor named Ayanna put my newborn baby boy on my chest. The room was mostly dark, and he lay there on his right side, surprisingly quiet and looking at me through one open eye. I remember how his deep brown hair was matted on his head, how his little fingers clutched and curled at my skin, how much he already looked like his Daddy. I remember thinking that I should cry but being way too in awe to muster tears. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Of all the amazing months that have made up this past year with Dashiell, the twelfth one was probably my favorite. I have watched him learn so many new things over the past four weeks that I am surprised his brain hasn't imploded. He is so much more able to express himself now, to converse and play and interact with us. The intricacies of his personality have become even more evident, and because of this the impossible has happened. I have fallen a little more in love with him.
This month started with a visit from my Mom, and I think Dash must have wanted to impress her because when she arrived he was just figuring out pointing, and by the time she left he could show us the duck, dog, flowers, light, owl, and moon, just to name a few. It was absolutely crazy to see him begin to understand that objects had names, and so excited was he by this discovery that he spent the first half of the month pointing to everything in sight and asking, "dat? dat?" As in, please tell me the name of that thing. That one too. And don't forget that one over there.
After about the 300th time we told him that a certain "dat" was, in fact, a duck, he surprised us by pointing at his rubber ducky and saying, "duh." I was pretty sure that "duh" was different from "dat," but any doubt in my mind was erased when we took him on a walk around a pond and he saw real, live ducks for the first time. Seriously, the kid went bonkers. He was grinning ear to ear and yelling "duh!" and pointing with both hands. I have never seen him so excited.
Since then the learning has been exponential. He can now say banana, dog, owl, and - my favorite - flowers. I think he has also says agua thanks to our Guatemalan babysitter. The list of things he can point to when asked where they are is endless. He knows where the monkey, the raisin, the truck, the fire, and Mama's nose are. He will wave or clap or dance if you ask him nicely. Sometimes he will even give you a kiss.
All of these developments are not without their downside. Last week we were in the supermarket and I was sort of narrating our shop to Dashiell - "now we're going to get some butter...and we'll get a little milk..." and all of a sudden he is whining and trying to undress me. Imagine me trying to explain to him, in the middle of Ralph's, that we weren't going to get that kind of milk right now.
Just this past week Dash got very sick and had his first high fever. We had put him to bed as usual around 8, and when he woke to nurse I could immediately feel that he was burning up. He spent the rest of that night and the next 3 days mostly curled up on my shoulder, sweat plastering his hair to my neck, drifting in and out of fitful sleep. I admit that I relished the cuddle time, being the only antidote to whatever virus was causing my normally busy boy to be so still and sleepy, but I was incredibly glad that he perked up enough to partake in the party we've been planning for him. I think he just didn't want to miss out on his first shot at a cupcake.
One day earlier this month I got out of the shower to the sound of music playing. I walked into the living room to see Sean and Dash dancing together, Dash doing his little bent-knee bop and Sean clapping along to the beat. This is a sight I was not sure I would ever see, Sean dancing, as he had assured me several times since we met that it is something he does not, will not, do.
Dashiell, there are so many aspects of parenthood that are so different from what I expected. It is harder and messier and more all-consuming than I could have imagined. You don't look or act like I imagined you would, and I am a different parent than I ever daydreamed I would be. I didn't know how inexplicably linked I would feel to you, how a part of my brain would forever be devoted to your happiness and well-being. I didn't know how often I would have a hard time breathing because you did something so touching, or so funny, or so paralyzingly cute. I didn't know that your Dad would be dancing. I didn't know what it was to be alive, really, before you.
Thank you, Dashiell, for this phenomenal surprise.
