One Year

Sage has been a year old for one week. His birthday was a really nice home celebration with just us (other than an unfortunate appearance by an uninvited guest later in the evening, but I don't want to dwell on unpleasantness). My mother got his cake for him--it was an homage to my brother, who's in Coronado. It was a Sponge Bob cake. She wanted it to say "Happy Birthday, Stinkyface!" but had to settle for "Happy Birthday Sage" (the stinkyface thing is because of this adorable book she bought him--the first one he ever got. It's all about a little boy who asks his mother all these questions about if she would love him if he was an alien, or a one-eyed monster, or a skunk named Stinkyface, etc etc etc).

Basically I just can't believe he's a year old. He's been pushing a wheeled mop bucket around the house lately--he loves picking things up and dropping them in his little cart as he toodles around. It's very cute. I thought that maybe by the time he was one, I would be thinking about having another, but I'm really not. I saw my super-pregnant cousin the other day and I didn't feel a twinge of longing. Not one. So maybe this is it for us. But then I think of all the fun I've had with my brother and how much I love him, and I wonder if I'm depriving him of something. I guess I still don't know. But in a way I can't imagine having another child.

I guess that's something I'll have to continue to toss around. I guess it's akin to the question "How do you know when someone is the person you want to marry?" And I think answer is purported by many to be "You just know."