My dearest baby boy.

My baby boy. You are almost one year old, I can’t believe i’m saying this but this week you are turning one year old.

12 months of nappies, teething, runny noses, laughter, tears and bed time battles, cuddles, cuteness, smiles and of course the fluffiest hair in the world.

This was the longest and shortest year of my life. Both complicated and effortless. A birth from hell that still gives me panic attacks one year on but hearing your first cry was the most amazing and scariest feeling in the world.

Your first three months are now a blur but I still remember the sickness in my stomach waiting in hospital rooms and hearing you scream. As a control freak, that feeling of uselessness and having to trust others was painful but I knew you were in safe hands.

I have watched your every move, and watched your sleeping breath (when you finally went to sleep). Everyone warned me that this time would go so quickly and it has. I hate to say, that sometimes I wished that the baby stage would pass a little bit quicker. The over whelming exhaustion, the pain in my eyes from lack of sleep, the feeling of guilt as Leila didn’t get as much of my attention as she did previously. I regret trying to speed up time. Some wishes do come true, now I wish I could slow down time.

Then you got a little bit older. You have grown so quickly since your first spoon feed at 3 months old, crawling at 5 months, climbing the stairs at 7 months, saying Leila and walking at 9 months. These are memories I’m so desperate to hold on too and I hope they don’t become a blur.

You follow your sister everywhere, you look up to her, love her and enjoy every moment with her. You wind her up, you climb all over her and now you steal and hide her toys and she loves you dearly. You have the cutest, cheekiest little smile that have captivated many elderly ladies, who can’t walk past you with touching your ‘chick like’ hair.

You have a sparkle in your eyes and the look of butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. You have a strange obsession with the potato and onion cupboard and a love of chewing cables, scissors and sockets. You eat cat food and yes, you have even sucked on the toilet brush and lets not forget about the fake coal you chewed. You eat anything, apart from a proper home cooked meal of course. You love to take food off my plate, chew it and then randomly hid it for me to find a few days later.

You love to press your snotty nose against every window pane then blow raspberries to smear it in. You squeal with delight when Mickey Mouse comes onto the tv and now when I shout for you, you run away chuckling. You love ducks and in the evenings you are beginning to settle down and look at the pictures in your quack, quack book. You high five and every time I say no, you shake your head 3 times. You have even warmed the heart of our grumpy ass cat (now that is an achievement).

You sing and dance with your sister to ‘Let it go’, all the time (on repeat)! You are flirtatious, curious, hilarious, smart and a bundle of fun. You keep us on our toes and I like to think, I’m one step ahead of you but really I couldn’t be further away. I’m watching you grow into a charming little dude and it’s exciting and painful and everyday I worry.

Every night, I thank and talk to my angels. I ask for health and happiness and wings around my family. I have come to the conclusion that everyday I will worry and everyday I will love you more and more, I will always be proud to be your mum.

Happy Birthday baby Luke.