Today is his birthday.

One whole year has passed, and I’m still drunk with love every time I look at him, smell him, touch him, drink him up. He’s all eyelashes and fuzzy butter-soft skin, contented smiles and feet and hands on my breast when he feeds. I can’t remember how I breathed before him.

I wish I had documented it better, every day of our lives together, because it’s so hard for me to believe that it really happened. Smiles and teeth and claps and baby steps and first words and holy hell, where does the time go?

I’m not the same person I was a year ago. Everything is different, easier and harder. Fifty pounds smaller on the outside, and fifty pounds heavier on the inside, right up top under my ribcage. I’m happier and and richer and poorer and so much more exhausted. I have a child and I feel like a child, I’m all grown up and responsible and clueless. I have a purpose and a reason, but less direction. I’m thirsty and I’m full. Everything is different and I don’t know where it’s going or where I’m going, but I know that it’s all for him, for our family. I’ll figure it out, I’m figuring it out as I go one step at a time.  I’m not the same person I was a year ago.

I’m his mama.

I remember every time he wakes up from a deep sleep and cries out for me, for comfort and a snuggle. I remember every time he turns around and stops what he’s doing to smile at me, just to make sure I’m still here. He makes me sing and he makes me dance and he throws his head back when I dip him. He’s my baby, my big boy, my handsome lovie.

He makes my heart beat. He is my heart.

At 11:27, I got an email from Erin that said, “I’m pretty sure I’m in labor… I’m in the bathtub.”

At 11:55, I got another email that said, “THUNDERCATS ARE GO. I’m in labor.”

Seven minutes later at 12:02, she had a baby.

You’ll never believe how it happened.

.: taken 13 hours later :.

He has so much personality, such long eyelashes. He’s standing up now, and taking wobbly steps with his push-toy thingy. He laughs uncontrollably when I wear sunglasses, or talk on the phone. He weighs 20 pounds. I miss him when he sleeps at night.

He’s a champion sleeper. At least thirteen hours every night and three good naps every day, this boy loves catch some ZZZs. Of course, he still wakes up to nurse every four or so hours at night, but that’s perfectly fine with me. Because I miss him when he sleeps at night.

He’s such a lover, easy with the smiles. Everyone always asks, “Is he always this happy?” ‘They’ say that the nine-month mark is when stranger anxiety usually sets in. I hope ‘they’ are wrong.

He loves everyone, but he has a special bond with his Aunt Ba. He’s a different baby when he’s with her, more comfortable than with anyone else besides his mama and daddy. It’s because he knew James and Jake when they were in theire mom’s belly and he was in his, and they asked him to take care of her for them. He does.

He appreciates good shoes, like his mama. He loves to dance and sing, bouncing when the music’s playing and LaLaLa-ing when I’m belting it out in the car or in the kitchen or in his face.

His face lights up when Mark walks in the door every night. He can pull himself off of the floor by digging his fingers into his daddy’s beard. He loves books and food and kissing on the mouth and making raspberries. He’s happy, and usually patient. He is his father’s son.

He loves to be worn, and held close. He tucks his hand into my shirt when he cuddles, and wraps his fingers through my curls when he nurses. He giggles til he hiccups when I nibble on his feet.

I can’t believe how much I love him, how much I need him.

How much he loves Sesame Street.

Guess who was named tiny*prints Adorable Baby of the Week? Check him out, yo.

Can you believe how much this baby, this boy, has changed in a month? Before my eyes, POOF! he’s turned into a toddler.

.:.:.:.

And isn’t this the most darling thing you’ve ever seen?

.:.:.:.

Late to the game as always, I just signed up for the March of Dimes March for Babies. I walked last year with Team James & Jake, and on Sunday I’m proud to be doing it again. I’d like to say that I’m prepared this year, but no. I didn’t train at all to walk six miles. Everything worth doing is worth suffering for, right? That said, I would be so grateful if you would donate to our team. You can just click right over there on the big purple widget and git ‘er done.

Our lovely team leader Beth is an amazing photographer, and she just opened an Etsy shop showcasing some of her best work. This is good for you, because duh: beautiful prints, and good for us because all proceeds from every sale made by April 30th will be donated to the March of Dimes. Everybody wins!

Thing that I’m inspired by this beautiful Thursday? Warm sunshine, a potential pedicure, and a working playdate with a lovely friend. Fresh flowers and a squealing baby and a weekend full of sunshine and love. Balanced productivity and relaxation. Operation Nice and new books waiting to be read.

Whoopee Thursday! There is a walk in my future, I can feel it!

Still, it wasn’t immediate; we weren’t sure who he was until the day after he was born, when my husband looked at him, cradled in his lap the way my husband holds all small babies, and said, “He’s Asher William.” It was, like him,  perfect.

Asher comes from the Hebrew word osher, meaning Happy. He is the happiest boy you’ll meet. So many times I’ve heard, “Is he always this happy?” or, “What a beautiful smile!” It’s infectious and contagious.

He’s my joy bringer, my little bundle of pure honey.

.:.:.:.:.:.

My gram died today.

Five days ago she was admitted to the hospital, three days ago we learned how sick she really was. Tomorrow she was going to be transferred to hospice.

We’ve been at the hospital every day, even though there wasn’t much we could do except be there. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to take Asher with me, but it was the only way,  and I needed to be with my gram and my family.

I’m so glad we were there, because my perfect boy, my joy bringer, affected everyone whose eyes he looked into. Even strangers in the ICU waiting room, families so visibly distraught, looked away from him with softer faces and relaxed shoulders. I heard a woman say, “I can’t help but smile back at him.” It’s his gift.

I think that’s why we were there, to be the break from grief that everyone needed.

He emanates love and happiness, and glows with joy. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have this boy in my life.

But we all need him now, so much.

Ivy and Asher, loving it up in Nashville. February 5, 2009.