A Year Old Mom

I celebrated my first year as a mother last Thursday. We couldn't help but look back on the year that has passed; and especially that fateful day last September.

08.09.10 is a date I'll never forget. My pregnancy was not smooth sailing, and neither was the delivery. However from that day on things just kept getting better. My son is a joy to be around; and I am not saying that just because he's my son. ( well, maybe I am, but it's still true)

We've gone through the fever, the flu, tummy upsets, teething pains, falls and bumps, a cut lip, lots of laughter, good times, not so good times... experiences too rich for the english language (or at least my command of it).

We've come a long way, the 3 of us. We started off with baby steps; small, shaky, unsteady little steps. Now we walk with more confidence; perhaps someday we can run.

My son is small, as in petite. It worries me when I see other babies so big, I tend to count the teeth on other babies his age, see what skills they have acquired, etc. Sometimes I feel I should do more, I should teach him more, feed him more (as in force feed him); I have moments of insecurity, and its at these times that I'm so so grateful for the encouragement and support from my best frind, parter, love and rock. He's level headed, mature, patient, caring, loving, romatic, sweet... and he understands exactly what I'm saying (no, I'm not talking about God; although he tends to think he is *God* at times)

Anyway, the babe's still small, and now recovering from a bad case of diahrrea and vomitting. I never leave his side. All I do is feed him breastmilk, play with him and cuddle him to sleep. He seems happy and on the road to recovery.

While other babies can say their ABC's, mine can hug, kiss, say 'bye bye', clap his hands and dance. I'm happy cos the first thing he learnt was to kiss and guess who got the first kiss?