How lovely it must be to be one year old.
To wake up from a nap, to scream to be held.
To toddle along searching for toys and attention.
To be headed towards one thing only to stop, hearing the music, unable to resist a moment of dancing…
To smile and laugh unprovoked,
To move from space to space, crawling, tiptoeing, rushing as the whim strikes you.
The determination to spend several minutes flipping over the dog’s bed. To intermittently scream with frustration, unselfconscious, because why would you not scream when you’re frustrated?! To finally abandon the dog bed because he’s decided he’s actually more interested in snuggling with the dog.
To talk and giggle to himself seemingly involved in the most fascinating of conversations, in that moment, not needing the presence of anybody else for entertainment.
To walk and totter, try to climb, topple and fall.
To thrill at the simple ability to close the door by himself
and to easily find his way into mischief when mamas attention is diverted.
Oh, how lovely to be a one-year-old!