One is fun

One year ago this month, my little Heebie-Jeebie was born. (Yes, I call him that. Yes, I know it's sickeningly cute. Yes, I know there will come a time in his life that he will curl up with embarrassment because that was his nickname. Yes, I can hardly wait.)

We didn't end up celebrating Hebs' birthday on the actual day; he's one and therefore doesn't know or care. When we did celebrate, Grandpa and Grandma Ross were able to be there. (This was important, because they were on their mission in the West Indies when he was born. I was roundly scolded (not really) for getting pregnant and having a baby while they were gone. Hebs' was the first baby blessing they had to miss!)

Hebs, like most one-year-olds, didn't have a clue about unwrapping presents. Fortunately, his older siblings were more than happy to help.

He loves the "Pat the Bunny" book Grandma Tobler sent. Especially the mirror page. He loves looking at himself, and I can't blame him. He is adorable.

Wow, brother, that sure is one amazing toy. Here, let me help you with that!

Although Hebs enjoys throwing the Duplo Lego blocks Grandma Ross gave him, his favorite present, hands-down, was the little toy telephone I picked up at D.I. for a buck. He was (and is) thrilled with the buttons, the noises, and the pictures.

Hebs wasn't at all sure what to do with the cake.

My favorite part is about 8 seconds in, when he shudders with disgust over frosting on his hands. Eventually, though, he managed to figure it out.

The obligatory cake-smeared-everywhere photo.

Hebs is a complete joy to be around. He talks constantly, often pointing his finger at himself and having a rousing (incomprehensible) conversation. He loves to be around his brothers and sister--they love him and he really, really adores them.

I love the way you cuddle up to me, Hebs, and grab a piece of my shirt to hold in your hand while you suck your thumb. It's your way of being as close to me as you can. You have the cutest, most somber face sometimes. And I love the way your eyes light up--you have beautiful eyes, boyo!--whenever I walk into a room. The way you throw yourself (ineptly, but we're working on that) toward me, just to sit in my lap, melts me every time.

I love you, baby. Happy first birthday.