Later this week our baby will be turning one year old. To think a year ago I was living a different life, working full-time, completely unsuspecting that in a few days I’d be a mom and change my career path forever.

One month before Wes was born I suddenly turned into a nesting maniac and spent most of my lunch hours and free time either in Babies-R-Us or perusing baby Web sites and catalogs. I felt such an urgency to get things ready after a seven-month drought where I felt no interest at all.

Six days before Wes was born John and I went to the Def Leppard concert in West Valley City, UT. John’s a big fan. It was my first live and up-close experience with the group and with 80’s-style rock fan attire (e.g., miniskirts, leggings and warm-ups, leather pants, etc.). It was loud, but fun. Boy, I was tired by the end.

Five days before Wes was born my cousin was married in Texas, and I wanted so badly to go even though I was 36 weeks pregnant. I checked with the airlines and technically you can fly when you’re 36 weeks if you have a doctor’s note of approval. I finally decided not to go, which ended up being a very good thing.

Two days before Wes was born John and I both went to the dentist and found out we each have an identical cavity in the same tooth. Weird, huh? We still haven’t had them filled.

One day before Wes was born (a.k.a. the day wherein I went into labor) I woke up at 3:30 a.m. for no perceivable reason with a ton of energy and put together our new jogging stroller. I’m still proud I did that myself. Then I went to work as usual.

That same day at 3 p.m. I went to the OBGYN for my 36-week appointment. All checked out fine, although I didn’t feel well.

That same day at 4:30 p.m. I was running errands before my aerobics class and found it hard to walk because of an annoying pain in my back. It came in waves and I had to sit and let it pass sometimes. I skipped my aerobics class and went home to take a bath.

That night at 7:00 I called the doctor to tell him my symptoms and he suggested I had the flu and to take some pills to feel better.

That night at 7:30 when John got home he watched me a while and then handed me an oven timer “just to see.” My pains were 2-4 minutes apart. I still didn’t realize I was in labor.

That night at 10:00 I called the doctor again and said things really weren’t improving and he relented that possibly I was in labor.

That night at 11:30 a nurse at the hospital finally examined me. John said, “We know it’s probably a false alarm, but…” and the nurse said, “She’s here to stay.” And I finally realized I was having a baby.

The next morning at 1:38 a.m. we had a baby boy, Wesley John, who weighed just 3 lbs 15 oz and was 16 inches long. No one knew he’d be so small. He was reasonably healthy, considering that his heart rate dropped significantly during labor, that he was 3 1/2 weeks early, and that he was so tiny.

On his birthday at 7 a.m. the pediatrician informed us Wesley likely has Down syndrome.

Twelve days after his birthday we got to bring him home with oxygen attached. He weighed just 4 pounds 2 oz.

Six weeks after his birthday we got to send back his oxygen tank and take off the annoying stickers that held the tubes to his face. The scars on his tiny feet from where he was poked for blood samples multiple times a day in the hospital had healed.

Two months after his birthday he graduated from preemie-size clothes to newborn size.

Three months after his birthday he started sleeping through the night (hallelujah) and smiling.

Four months after his birthday he weighed almost 9 1/2 pounds and could hold his head up by himself with only a little wobbling.

Six months after his birthday he could sit up if we supported him and was wearing size 0-3 month clothing.

Seven months after his birthday he could stay sitting up all by himself!

Eight months after his birthday he could hold up his bottle by himself.

Nine months after his birthday he could wear size 3-month clothing.

Ten months after his birthday he could push himself up to sitting and eat finger foods if we put them in his mouth for him.

Eleven months after his birthday he weighs around 15 pounds and is in size 3-6 month clothing. He can say lots of sounds like “mama” and “baba,” pull himself to standing in the crib, and crawl. He can eat all sorts of foods that don’t require teeth (of which he has none), but his pincer grip is yet to be developed so we pop the foods in his mouth for him. When he sees our hands approaching he drops his mouth wide open and leans forward for the food. He loves to drink from cups, even if he gags on the liquid. He can play independently and has so much fun stacking toys, chewing on toys, and pushing buttons on toys so they light up and play music. He has so many friends. He smiles a lot, which lights up his whole face and turns his eyes into half-moons, and he makes us smile a lot too.

The year has gone quickly. Who knows what the next year will bring?

Wesley’s therapist visited today and, boy, was she blown away. Wes started figuring out crawling two days ago, on Wednesday. He would move a step or two toward a toy, then stop and try to push up to sitting or roll over. It took a lot of effort from us both for him to reach the toy. Thursday he was doing a little better crawling. And today . . . well, check out the videos yourself.

Video of Wes crawling 1

Video of Wes crawling 2

His favorite target when crawling is his bottle, no question. I’ve tried to get him to move toward me or John, but apparently we’re not tempting enough yet.

Additionally, Wesley is doing great with all sorts of motor skills. He wowed his therapist by putting a ring on the stacker toy and taking it off again, by putting a toy in a small bowl and taking it out again, and by stacking one toy on another next to him. These are all things that she wasn’t sure he was ready for, but he’s pretty much mastered them in the two weeks since her last visit. He also clearly understands cause-and-effect, which he demonstrated by continually tossing a certain toy that lights up when it lands. He kept throwing it down to make it light up.

She was very impressed with Wes, and I couldn’t help but feel the Proud Mom glowing inside me. Technically Wes is behind other kids developmentally, but for having Down syndrome he’s doing terrific. He’s smart and can focus on toys and sounds and people and is so interested in whatever is happening around him.

Now that he can crawl, our cats had better start being on their guard. Once Wes targets them as a worthwhile goal, I bet he’ll get pretty fast, following them around as they run away.

Since Wes has learned to pull himself to standing in his crib his poor toys are at his mercy. His new favorite pastime is assaulting his Winnie the Pooh mobile and eating the ears on his musical puppy. I figure it’s good practice for his balance.

Such are the immortal words of Mo Rocca, and such is Wesley’s forehead. He’s starting to accumulate a collection of bruises on his forehead from all his bonks. Today alone he bonked his head twice–once at home against the coffee table and once at Tucanos (a Brazilian restaurant) on the table edge. He had a hard time recovering from that last one because right after he stopped crying over his traumatic head injury the Brazilian singers trounced in with their drums and loud voices to sing happy birthday to three tables of people. And Wes wasn’t much a fan of the noise. He didn’t cry again, but his lower lip kept pouting out like he was certainly thinking about it. So John took him out to let him recover a bit more.

Also, we have a potential jailbird on our hands now. Wes learned how to pull himself to standing in his crib. Sometimes we’ll sit him in his crib to play, leave for a minute, and come back when we hear a loud thumping noise to find him standing up and hitting the wall with his hand. Mostly I think he pulls himself to standing to get a better grip on the crib with his mouth so he can chew on it.

Lastly, and I know this is heathenish to include in a post essentially about Wes, but I am so darn proud of my newly reorganized pantry. Just look:

I should have taken a “before” picture because it would have made you pass out from horror. Imagine the shelves of your local grocery store after an earthquake, except with the boxes and cans intact on the shelf but at odd angles and in no particular order. Also with expired freshness dates. And a few weevils wandering around.

I am a fan of these under-counter baskets that I use to store my plastic wrap and storage bags.

I feel so empowered by my new pantry. Last night I went grocery shopping and instead of standing in an aisle staring at an item and wondering, “Do I have any of this at home?”, I could clearly picture the organized shelves and know for sure. Few things give as good a high as getting organized.

I just wanted to report that Wes did much better with his speech therapy visit today than last time. I wasn’t sure how Wes would do since he had been yawning and was obviously ready for a nap. But once his therapist walked in and started playing with him he perked up and smiled a lot. She said that today he was like a new baby; he has improved so much since her last visit.

Hah. I knew my baby was smart.

And he really has come a long way since she came a month ago. He’s making more sounds, especially when he’s mad or tired or needs something. I hear him say “mamamamama” when he’s tired of being in the crib, and I hear the same sound with a lot more oomph when he’s getting angry. Sometimes I just stand there and listen to him making these great noises, even though technically the noises are meant to spur me to action. It’s so darn cute hearing him talk.

His therapist had a lot of other good things to say about Wes, like how he goes after toys (leans toward them) with definite purpose and throws a small ball really well. (We should probably get him a bigger ball to start rolling around.) She said he is responding well to stimulus and is taking turns and can understand cause-and-effect toys. And she said he was so adorable that she’d be more than happy to pack him up and take him home with her.

A neighbor brought us a squash, which Wes quite liked. In its natural form, anyway. I haven’t steamed and mashed it yet for him to try in its actual edible form. Maybe tomorrow.

His therapist dropped off a baby food grinder for me to use to prepare grown-up food in baby form for Wes (veggies, pasta, meat, etc.). I probably get a C as a mom in the eating department because I have to force myself to feed Wes food besides milk. This is mainly because whatever Wes eats you always see again in the form of spit-up. I’m not sure how long it will take for him to outgrow that. It gets tiring, always cleaning it up. At least milky spit-up is somewhat a neutral color. Last week I gave him lasagna (stage 3 baby food, and he did great with it, even without teeth), but then I had to do a whole load of laundry of shirts, bibs, blankets, and burp rags covered in reddish-pinkish spit-up. And it was three days before I felt like giving him solids again after that. I know. C-mom for sure.

Wes is eleven months old now. I remember when he turned six months John and I came to the surprising realization that we were parents of a kid half-way to one year old. And now we’re parents of a kid less than a month off from one. Kind of crazy.

He is progressing well enough in his own ways. He can crawl backwards, but he only scoots back just far enough to push himself up to sitting. He doesn’t seem to realize he could be cruising around the house if he wanted, as long as he doesn’t mind moving backward.

He’s into size 3-6 month clothes. I realized today that we’ll get to reuse his Superman costume from Halloween last year (which he absolutely swam in as a 4-pound baby), because the costume is made for babies up to 9 months. And even though he’ll be over a year old by October 31st, we’ll be lucky if he’s wearing size 6-month clothes.

Wes is a super-happy kid. He smiles a lot, and giggles a lot when he’s tired but happy. One of my favorite things to do is lie next to him on the floor or on our bed when he’s winding down for a nap and is in a good mood. I can baby-wrestle with him, pull him on my tummy, tickle him, throw him in the air, and he laughs and laughs. It’s so fun being a mom sometimes.