To My Son on His First Birthday.

Barrett Joseph Benson,

Today, you are one year old (or #ONEYEARgOLD as we tagged your Olympic-themed party).  I'm torn between being tearful, for the things that have come and gone over this year, and being completely over-the-moon.  I choose over-the-moon.  I've lived by one phrase over the past 365 days, "the days are long but the year(s) is (are) short."  I feel like it most accurately expresses the most life-changing year of my life, the best year of my life, the year I became a mother.  With every diaper, every feeding, every pump (!!!), every doctor's appointment, every bath, every snuggle, every smile, every breathing treatment, the day(s) felt long and I felt overwhelmed (and tired), but the year felt like it happened in just the blink-of-an-eye.  Time truly does fly when you are having fun, and I'm beyond proud to be your mother, little boy.  We did it.  We survived.  We thrived.  We grew.  We learned.  We cried.  And, we loved.  Oh, how we loved.

I didn't know it this time last year, but I was about to be taken on a roller coaster in your first few days of life.  I've never felt like such a BA as I did after giving birth to you.  And to be pulled down from that pedestal, down to earth stuck in a hospital with so many questions from Tuesday to Sunday (with a normal vaginal delivery no less), was tough.  The doctors didn't think you were as perfect as I knew you were.  And, I was heartbroken.  Completely heartbroken but seemingly still so relieved you were here!  But, you proved them wrong.  You were meant to be born with an adorably smooshed face (sorry that two and a half hours of pushing will do that to you).  You were meant to be jaundice (even though I'm convinced you wouldn't have been my cute little dinosaur under that light if I had insisted formula for a few days)!  You were meant to have big hands and feet.  You were meant to have a cute little knot on your head (and I was meant to learn a lot about grace explaining it to strangers almost daily.)  You were meant to be a "normal male" (whatever that means), and I was meant to live through six weeks of the unknown waiting for your testing.  You were meant to be asthmatic, we think.  You were meant to spend two days in the hospital in South Dakota.  You were meant to be you, and you are more than anything we could have ever hoped for or wanted.

I don't want to forget even a moment of the past year.  I want to bottle every emotion, every milestone, every curl, every tooth, every laugh, every tear, every praise, and hang on every single thing.  But, that's not reality.  Instead, I'll relive this past year for the rest of my days through the thousands of pictures and videos I (and countless others) took on my iPhone, my Leica, my Canon, and through professional pictures.  (You almost instantly smile now when I pull my phone out of my bag or pocket, and that's both crazy and awesome!)  Below are some highlights of your first year that I do want to remember by writing/ typing them.  I can't wait to look back over the years to all the things you loved, how much you grew, and to everything in between.

Height: 32 inches.

Weight: 24 1/2 pounds.

Favorite Toys: "Baby's First Book" with yellow hanger (Baby Einstein), Giraffe, Ice Cream Box from Mommy's birthday (Cuisinart), Mommy's iPhone

Favorite Foods: Peaches, Yogurt, Crunchies, Eggs, Daddy's Mac-n-Cheese

Favorite Books: The Barnyard Dance, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Day the Crayons Quit 

You love to: eat, crawl, smile, cock my head (you're a flirt), read words, take selfies.

Teeth: 5

Diapers: Size 5

Diagnoses: Severe FOMO, fear of napping, asthma (we think but it's still too early to test for asthma though you tested negative for all other allergies)

Nicknames: Barre, Barrito, Squirmy, Little boy, bb

Travels: Savannah, South Dakota (twice), Minneapolis, Destin, Athens, Disney

Moments you've made me most proud in your first year of life: 

(1) Surviving 2.5 hours of pushing.  I should have known how laid back and how "good" of a baby you would be after that.  You arrived bright-eyed and as calm and cool as could be.  Your nose was crooked to the left and your right ear wasn't as "flat" as your left.  You were/are so handsome.

(2) Passing your hearing test after being discharged.  You failed both of your hearing tests in the hospital.  At the time, I thought something was seriously wrong.  I know now that failing is fairly common, that fluid can enter the ear and prevent you from passing.  When I took you by myself after a couple of weeks at home and you passed (with the same crazy lady testing), I knew that I'd be one of "those moms" at future events for you.  Get excited.

(3) Breastfeeding (via EP) for six months.  This is more of an accomplishment for me but I did it for you.  I set a goal for a minimum of six months of you receiving breastmilk, and I did it.  Sure, by the end I only pumped about two ounces a day but I did it.  And, to date, I consider this the second greatest achievement of my life, after delivering you.  I spent DAYS of my life (maybe even a week or more) connected to that machine if you add all the time together, and I pumped GALLONS of milk; I should be proud!

(4) The fact that people didn't even know you were on your first flight.  The people in front of us had no clue you were even behind them until they stood up to exit the plane.  I so feared that you would be a cranky baby (I don' t know why because you've never been cranky a day in your life), but I wouldn't have done well with that I don' t think.  I so feel for those parents whose kids cry or scream the entire flight, and though I now sympathize with them as a parent, I didn't want people to scowl at you.

(5) For making an appearance on the big screen at Sanford Stadium during the Mizzou game.  It was your first football season and you made it on the big screen!  I think the only time I made it on the big screen was a group shot during graduation.  Maybe one day, you'll be featured again as starting tight end?!

I've been told by countless people just how lucky we are to have such an "easy" baby.  You truly are a great baby.  You never cry unless you are hungry.  You smile at anyone who talks to you and are incredibly social.  Other than the unknown from the hospital and your respiratory issues, you've been perfect.  You've let us sleep for the most part.  You've had no allergies to any food and will eat ANYTHING (except green beans).  You love bath time and swimming.  You don't mind riding in the car or your carseat.  You'll sit in a dirty diaper (because mom made a rookie mistake and forgot extras) for hours.  If we take a toy away to teach you to reach or pull up, you just crawl to another toy like it's no big deal (cool and frustrating all at once).  You love your stroller for the most part and the buggy at the grocery store (I don't stress about having to take you to the store).  People say that we're screwed if we have any more children because you truly are an angel.  I hope they are wrong and that any siblings you may have will have your disposition.  I don't know how I would have handled a high-strung/ needy baby; it's true that you are sent what you need!  You're my favorite.

This has been the best year of my life.  Hands down.  Without a doubt.  The hardest, most beautiful, exhausting, scary, blessed, wonderful, amazing, most fulfilling year of my life.  And, as we embark on year two and beyond, please know that YOU make me a better person.  No matter where I go in life, the ups and downs, the successes and failures, the good and the bad, I will always be your mother and that gives me all the feels.  You and your da-da are the best things that ever happened to me.

I love you, forever and always, my blue-eyed, curly-haired little boy.

Let's eat a flag cake!

Ma-ma (say it for realz!)