Please keep the comments coming! (The form gets lonely ya know.)

So Simon "the toddler", Hava "the Nah-nah", and Matthew "the Da-dee", took a few hours off from their regularly scheduled lives yesterday afternoon and went to a local park with water features. Fun was had but not so much in the water. It was a bit cold and the big kids kept turning up the streams of water which would come gushing or spraying out and scare the bejezzes out of the otherwise very water-friendly Simon.

After the park we went out to dinner for traditional English faire where Matthew finally was able to try scotch eggs (Simon and Hava wouldn't touch 'em. Ok, Simon wanted to touch them but he certainly wasn't interested in consuming them). It suddenly occurred to Matthew that the first birthday isn't about the birth-ee but rather the birth-er. Hava argued that it is less about the birth-er (though she does appreciate being appreciated for being the birth-er) and more about all parties involved surviving the first year. We are fairly certain that nothing could be more draining emotionally, physically, and mentally than successfully getting a baby to his first birthday. Our elders argue that the teen years are more draining but we beg to differ. We are tired. Not just tired but deep-down memory-lapsing bone-aching tired. This isn't a tired that can be undone with a sitter; it's hibernation-level tired. Teenagers at least sleep past 5:30 am ...

Dear Simon,

It has been a year since you entered our lives; a year you won’t remember; a year we will never forget. The story up to this point goes something like this …

Mom and Dad met and fell head over heels for each other. Mommy was interested in experiencing motherhood at some point in her life because she thought it was too much of a life experience to miss. Daddy wasn’t so sure children should be in his future but he eventually agreed that having one child wouldn’t irreparably harm their good times. Mommy and Daddy had a big Halloween party to celebrate their decision to make you and everyone was invited. One year later they went house hunting to find the perfect space for you to sleep and play; the place they chose had big bedrooms next to each other (so you wouldn’t be very far) and lots of light, but it needed a little work so Mommy and Daddy spent a year painting, carpeting, adding fixtures and buying furniture. Near the end of the year, Mommy and Daddy were ready for you to enter their lives and you were only too willing to oblige us with your presence.

Mommy and Daddy were excited about your arrival but, truth be known, they were a little worried that their full life together would come to a screeching, crashing, halt. And so it did. You were born on a Tuesday at 2 am in the morning. Mom cried out of joy when they laid you on her chest; Dad was so excited that the nurses had to remind him to take a few pictures. You were amazingly large. You tried to suck on your Dad’s nose when he held you up to his face. You calmed down quickly and, after looking at your new home, fell into a blissful slumber that lasted until Mom woke up for breakfast. The nurses whispered how lucky we were to get one of the quiet ones. To make Mom laugh, Dad still makes the scrunchy face you had on when you first entered the world. He was there and witnessed the entire thing.

The first few months of your life were pretty stressful and emotional. Most days you needed to be fed every hour and you took an hour to eat. You slept a lot but never for more than a few hours at a time. You were so interested and wanted more than anything to be everywhere; to see everything. Strangers commented on how “alert” you were; you are very clever. At almost exactly two months old you figured out that if you pulled hard enough on your clothes and stuck one fist in the air, you could raise enough momentum to roll over. You started to crawl just after your six month birthday and you started to walk just after your tenth. You love to move; in water; flying through the air out of Dad’s arms; racing on the ground to the objects of your desire.

You are independent and extremely confident. In a room full of kids you are always the greeter, the grabber of the toys (we'll teach you to share soon), and, recently, the chatterbox. We hope you never lose the confidence you have in yourself and your easy way with people.

You are also incredibly sweet and really silly. You laugh when we say funny words like “booger!” You figured out how to make fart sounds on Mom’s skin and, for a long while, that has been your favorite evening activity. You laugh at sneezes, coughs, silly faces, burps and hide-and-seek games. You much prefer being outside to being inside. You don’t favor one toy over another. You love music and are thrilled when we show you the music video with Christopher Walken dancing. To put you to sleep we sing “Good night sweetheart (Well it’s time to go).” You love story time. You rush over when someone starts to read a book . You like your stories to have good sounds and brightly colored pictures.

So though one year ago today our lives came to a screeching halt, it turns out that we really like the new us even better than the old us. What would we do without you? We ponder that question every now and then and the answer is always disastrous. Without you we wouldn’t be us. Instead of lamenting all of the movies we’ve missed, the fine dinners out, the late nights in the City with friends, we are thankful for bath times, trips to the park, food fights, and seeing your face light up and your arms outstretch when one of us enters the room.

You are the most perfect person we know and we love you deeply. Welcome to our club of three.

Mom (Nah-nah) & Dad (Da-dee)

It's a celebration! Here are the party favors ...

Simon has a new music video, watch it now
So many firsts ... here is a first timeline
Can't believe how he has grown? Check out the new growth charts
Watch Simon age! An entire year of Simon on the Boppy Pillow
Want a stroll through memory lane? View the post from this day last year or review his birth announcement
Be sure to leave a birthday wish!