Today, my Luke, you are twelve months old.
You are getting so big.
You weigh about 21 pounds and your eyes are deep hazel and you still have two teeth.
You love to eat and you would take down an entire pint of blueberries if I'd let you.
You talk all the time. Lots of different sounds. No consistent words yet, but you're on your way.
You play peek-a-boo around every corner and you still think it's so funny.
You give kisses and high fives.
You dance when your toys play music and it makes me laugh so hard!
You still love your daddy, your Honey, Daisy, and being outside.
Stroller rides. Wagon rides. Going to get the mail.
You've still got some stranger anxiety, but I think it's getting better.
I would describe you as shy, but you warm up pretty quickly.
You are always busy, moving, going, exploring.
You're cruising all the furniture with ease and walking behind your push-toys as fast as your little legs will move. You hate to sit still. Unless you're eating.
You love the dishwasher and the freezer.
As soon as you hear one of them open, you crawl so fast to get there.
And when I take you away, you pitch a big fit.
I love everything about you, champ.
Your big belly laugh and your sweet baby smell.
The way you bury your head in my shoulder when it's time for a nap, or when you're just waking up.
Your expressions. Your confidence. Your strength.
This has been the most incredible year of my life.
You have changed the way I look at the world and I wouldn't ever go back.
I love you so much.
Happy birthday, buddy.