Soren has entered the whirlwind phase of his existence. The busiest little boy I’ve ever seen, he swoops from room to room dragging things in and out, emptying drawers, scattering bits of anything, shredding paper, eating inedible objects, pulling things upon his head and squealing about it, dancing at any opportunity, chattering at passing dogs, and other generally baby-like activities. He rarely holds still for more than a moment, and even those moments are infrequent. If I spent my entire day following him around and alternately entertaining him and picking up in his wake, I’d have a very busy life, emphasis on the picking up after him.
Despite all the work Soren causes, he’s absolutely the most delightful tiny creature I’ve met. No, really, he is a very exemplary specimen. While I’ve found myself wishing for my own and admiring others’ teeny tiny babies, I like this phase most of all so far. He’s learned about communication and reciprocal interactions, and he is in a constant state of enchantment with the world and all its wonders. His attention to detail is both inspirational and terrifying. “What is that in your mouth, Baby?!” At least a dozen times a day. Opening either the dishwasher or the refrigerator has the effect on Soren of the sound of a can opener to a pampered kitty. Loading the dishwasher or putting our CSA groceries away is a challenge. I’ve recently resorted to putting him in the farthest corner of the living room with a toy and running to the kitchen to get in 30 seconds of work before he notices that I’ve left and races to join me.
He can climb our basement steps in under a minute. He can stand unaided for many, many continuous seconds. My mom taught him to turn his bedroom light off from his crib (which, thanks, Mom); fortunately, he is still too short to make it turn on, though this does not stop him from trying. A year ago, I was just hoping he would refrain from being born on my own birthday, a wish he more than granted. It’s incredible what a human goes through in his or her first year of life. I can hardly even remember him in his curled-up, skinny newborn phase, he changed into this gregarious, chubby little boy so gradually. And his thigh rolls! His limbs have stretched out so that his rolls are slowly going the way of the froggy legs. In just a few weeks, he’ll be One. An entire year flown by, and there are so many things I thought I’d have all the time in the world to do but still haven’t. I’m actually looking forward to the structure of the school year, as I think I get more accomplished in that mindset.
For the next couple of weeks, though, we’re going to do things like eat watermelon by the wading pool before dinner, yell at passing neighbors and their pets, and go for tons of walks. We’ll snuggle in bed in the mornings while I distract him with random items from my nightstand and try to sneak a few more minutes of sleep. I’ll try to remember just what he’s like right this minute, because tomorrow he might not raise whatever it is he’s enjoying over his head or yell at barking but out of sight dogs. I anticipate still liking that version of Soren, too.