Corrected age, my foot

I made it, I've crossed over. I can officially call myself a one year old now. I think the thing that makes me most happy is that I don't have to count my age in months anymore. That got old really fast.

The other great thing is that I get to ride in my car seat facing forward now. I don't know why it took Mom and Dad and year to figure this one out, but thank goodness they finally did. I was starting to get so confused, I didn't know which way was up...or back...or front.

Naturally, the day of my birth was really monumental. Not only did I make my entrance in a grand fashion, but October 15th is also a special day to remember other babies, like my sister, who were strong little fighters but didn't get to stay long. On my first birthday, I got to go to a service with other families of angel babies. Some people might think this is a sad thing to do on a birthday, but I look at it as a celebration of life, mine included.





The next day was my real shindig. Mom explained to me what a barbecue is, so now I understand a bit better. It's really all about the food. Of course I didn't get to eat any of it. I'm not sure how that works, it's your birthday but you don't get any of the food. I think everybody should have enjoyed their own tasty jar of Gerber's and washed it down with a bottle of formula. It seems only fair.

I'm not being completely truthful, I did get some cake. Cupcake, that is. Always trying to be different, my family decided to have cupcakes instead of a big fancy cake. The idea underwhelmed me at first, until I saw the spread. Great work, Nana. You win the prize for most creative use of gummy worms.

And I have to say I was totally wrong about the whole box thing. It actually was worthwhile to open all the boxes because there was neat stuff inside. I got a learning table that plays all kinds of music, two drums and some other instruments and a hippo that eats blocks. Mom says all this stuff will keep me busy, but for some reason she had a funny look on her face when I opened all the noisy toys. Maybe she was jealous. I guess I'll have to share my drum with her.

Now that I'm one, maybe I'll gain some credibility. Mom's always been so careful with me, watching every move I make. She doesn't understand that I'm an independent guy. But now I can just tell her "Hey, I'm a big kid. I'm one!"

Guess I'd better work on my verbal skills, or this won't be very effective.