Thirteen Months

Dear Nathan,

You're starting to sound so old. I rarely ever give your age in months anymore, but if anyone asked, I would now get to say you're thirteen months old. It's not a big milestone by any means, but one worth mentioning anyway.
You're still little enough that I hear older kids shout, "Look, Mommy! A baby!" when we walk by, but you're quickly outgrowing that phase. Pretty soon that will be you looking at younger children, telling me you see a baby.
And I have no doubts that it won't be long until that happens. You are quickly catching up to your brother in language skills. You desperately want to be like him in every possible way, and his slightly lagging language skills have left an opening for you to catch up to him. Just this afternoon, you told me "da" while you were holding a rubber ducky and then "ca, ca" (quack, quack, I think). Apparently you're paying more attention to our bedtime book about farm animals than I'd realized.
You were also excited today to see Amber when you woke up from your nap. You said something that sounded like, "Hi, Amber," followed by "gi ga," which sounded remarkably like your brother's version of "good girl." If I add these new phrases to all the words and phrases you've already been saying, it's safe to say you are at least on target with the langauge development I'd expect for your age (not that I really know what to expect based on past experiences), if not a little ahead.
Most of the time it's fun to take you out places. You are still quite the charmer and look excited about every single outing. I usually carry you in the baby carrier, and you hang there happily, kicking your feet, waving your arms, and grinning that famous smile of yours. You never fail to get a smile out of even the most grumpy-looking people. I love watching you bring joy to everyone's life, even people you've never seen before and will probably never see again.
But Nathan, that doesn't begin to compare to the joy you bring to my life, and all of us who get to spend so much time with you. If more families ended up with children like you, there would be population boom unlike what has ever been seen before. You are the picture of perfection of babyhood, the one every mother dreams about but never gets. Except for lucky, lucky me.

Still, I know that perfect as you are now, it would be foolish of me to place that burden of perfection on you. Before I know it, you will have fallen headfirst into the terrible twos, and I will rely on my memories of these first thirteen (and hopefully more) months to take me through the toddler years. You have my permission to fail, to turn into that cranky baby that must be hidden somewhere behind those bright eyes and permanent smile. I've seen enough of you already to know that this happy baby I've seen for the past thirteen months is the real you, and you'll be back eventually when you let the cranky baby take over.
In the meantime, you are working to keep up with your big brother in ways other than talking. You are soooo close to crawling the real way, but every time it looks like you're going to give it a try, you fall back on your tried and true scoot-crawl. You're amazingly fast at it. You're already a handful to keep up with when you get scooting.
But more than anything, you want to be on your feet, standing. You can balance for a couple of seconds without any support, although you don't allow those opportunities often, and I've watched you watch your brother walk and run with that jealous glint in your eyes. I'm sure it won't be long before you summon your inner courage and toddle those first few steps after him--I'm sure it will be after Patrick. And then? I don't know what I'll have to do to keep up with both of you.
At least at the end of the day, when all of your energy is spent, you still crash like a baby. I never get tired of the sight of your sweet, innocent face relaxed in sleep. Never is my urge to love and comfort and protect you from all the hurts of the world any stronger. At the end of the day, regardless of how mature you get, you are still just my little baby, and nothing can take that away from me. And that makes me as deliriously happy as you always are.

I love you, sweet Nathan.

Mommy