Happy Birthday, Lumpyhead

Okay, I sort of fell off the face of the earth there for awhile. We were in North Carolina over the weekend for Bump's cousin Erin's wedding (which is all kinds of blog fodder, but I just couldn't muster the energy to post). Bump's family fawned over the baby all weekend, he stayed up too late, and slept in the hotel bed with us. Now that we're back home, we're trying to make up the lost ground on sleep-training, and Bump and I feel awful because Lumpyhead spent last night alone in his room (But he's crying! And it's almost his birthday! You're not supposed to cry when it's almost your birthday!). We're such suckers.

Tonight's birthday party was great. We invited 10-15 people, but the only people who showed up were Nana V, Aunt Bob, Pete and Patrick. It was fabulous. The other people I invited are great, and would have been tons of fun, but I was almost glad they didn't come. The evening was "just family," the people who were present a year ago when Lumpyhead was born.

Lots of other bloggers post their baby's birth story on the first birthday, which I love, but I'm not going to do that tonight. Instead, I'm going to give the toast I didn't give at Lumpyhead's birthday party (because it was a casual party and a toast would have been awkward. Plus, I didn't think of it during the party).

To Lumpyhead!

So many people love you. Not just the people who assembled in our house tonight, but also the people who couldn't be here. Your grandparents in Minnesota, who are convinced the sun rises and sets at your command, waited so long and so eagerly for you to arrive. Your grandparents in Maine, who claim your every action is brilliant, worship the ground you walk on. Your great-grammy in Maine, who invariably says of you "he's so handsome," thinks of you every day. Your great-grandmother in Minnesota, who sadly, isn't the sharp, energetic woman she used to be, considers you her special great-grandbaby.

Your Aunt Amy in Maine wants to eat you up every time she sees you. Your Uncle Ron buys you camoflauged clothing, hangs on your every milestone, and can't wait to take you fishing. Your other Honorary Aunts and Uncles - so many and so wonderful - giggle over your pictures and ask about your progress.

And those who are no longer with us: your grandfather after whom you're named, your great-grandfather who passed just recently, your other great-grandparents long dead. Cousin Erin's mother. John. Alex. They all love you, too. They watch over you - toasting your birth, taking pride in your accomplishments, flinching when you fall. Someday, they will be those little voices in your head, urging you to make the right choices.

You're already such a little man, but still such a baby.

You're such a lucky little boy.

To you, Lumpyhead. This first year has gone so fast.

And it's been better than I ever could have hoped.