Happy Birthday, Wyatt

It's been just over a month now, Wyatt, since you became something closer to a child and something further from a baby; you became a one year old little boy. Here we are thirteen months after your birth, and you are still all that you were then and someone totally new to us. I am wishing you a happy birthday these weeks late in part because you have been very sick recently. While caring for you has slowed me down, there is nothing so good as severe illness to make us stop and focus and remember and gather up all of you in our arms and minds because we are closer than ever to the knowledge that in a whisper our miraculous journey with you could end. In spirit, you were planned, and in other ways, you were a very perfectly-timed surprise making your ensuing entrance known just at the right moment to heal us. It was our Winter but we felt complete again knowing your little heart was thumping around inside of me. Then, astonishingly, you were here before us, in our arms, fitfully snoring and refusing to sleep any way except with someone sitting up and holding you. You grunted half the night, went through the baby acne stage, lost all your hair, and then finally - you emerged. You became the little baby we keep bragging about. The babe who sleeps all night, who always smiles, who never meets a stranger; you are the baby with the cotton top hair and the sky-blue eyes. You are the one with the silly one-leg crawl and the fat, square hands. You are the king of belly laughs and you do not eat a morsel of food without first throwing no less than three fist-fulls onto the floor. You have six teeth, can say five words, and can walk about four paces. In the past 100 hours or so, however, you have become a soul about whom I have no words. Presently, Wyatt, I can only seem to feel you. I have held you more in the past week than I have at any single stretch of time since your birth. We have rocked and swayed and slept wound around each other every night for days and days, and so writing this seems like the wrong format, an improper medium. In an hour or so, you will be awake in your crib, standing, softly calling me using your brand new words. I will go down to get you and if patting you isn't enough, you will spend the night curled up beside me. May you always feel such comfort. May you always be so loved. May you forever know that you have changed our family from the moment we discovered that you would shortly join it. Happy first birthday to you, bub bub. We love you.

It's not a slight thing when those so fresh from god love us.

-Dickens

Wyatt's first birthday began with - what else? - cake baking. Paul and Grandma whipped up a chocolate layer cake that we are still talking about.

Greta helped, of course.

Nana made Wy's birthday crown, too, despite my waiting until the last minute to gather the materials for it. A time crunch does not change the fact, however, that a great deal of love and wisdom went into crafting this simple hat.


Grandparents, cake, and crown together - the only thing missing was Aunt Lori! But she came all the way from Oregon just for Wy's big day. One year ago, she was here laboring with me and helping take care of Greta. Now look what she has to show for all her involvement, even from afar - - these babes love their Aunt Lori so much and know her well despite her great distance from them.

Hmmm, this is cake?
Oh yeah - - yum!!!
It's so good, I'll just roll in it a little! Where have you been hiding this stuff all this year?!

Along with family, Wy enjoyed some good friends' company. Baby Silas will be doing this in six months or so.


Presents! Greta was a little more adept at the opening of them, but Wyatt has enjoyed the rest.

Detour: when Greta and Alex had enough of Wyatt's party, they hosted their own little party - - a picnic.

Happy birthday to my sweetest boy. We love you Wyatt. Here's to another trip around the sun!