12 Months as Dad

E turned 12 months old today. We celebrated at home with a seared rib eye, baby bok choy, and a bottle of Frog’s Leap 2013 Heritage Blend.

One year ago at this moment, we had been parents for less than two hours. Wow. I heard a father’s speech at his daughter’s wedding a few years ago. He was recounting how quickly the time had flown and recalled his own mother saying to him when his daughter had first arrived: “You have never experienced the passage of time like you will now.“

At the time, it struck me as a hypothetically-powerful thing to say (which is why I remembered it), but now all I can think is, “Yeah, this shit is moving FAST.”

As a dad, I just want it to slow down. It’s all moving so quickly. Last month, I mentioned that she wasn’t walking, and then later that day she was pushing her cart around the home at a steady, loud clip. Laughing and chattering, as if to say, “Dad, you thought I *couldn’t* do this?“

I’ve said it before, but really the plateaus of change are the most striking. We’ll go through weeks or even months of anticipating a change, and then when it happens we all immediately jump to the next thing, her included. There are so many small milestones that they become a blur of the casually celebrated.

She started high-fiving people this month, which is pretty practical, but the single cutest thing that E’s started doing? Giving people things. She’ll be holding a book or toy, turn, and present it to me with a look that says, ‘Hi, would you like to have this?’ When I take it and politely thank her, she smiles and sticks her hand back out, silently asking for it back. I’m not afraid to admit that it makes me quietly melt every time.

At 12 months, her personality now feels like it’s really emerging. She expresses personal dislikes much more readily. She has preferences. When she stops eating something and spits it out, we can reliably assume it means she doesn’t like how the mixture of those ingredients taste (and if we try it again later, it’ll be the same). When she grunts, she’s expressing defiance. And when she loosens her arms, she doesn’t want to be held.

I find myself often thinking about whether *she* will like something, versus previous questions of, “I wonder if babies like this.” I don’t have a good sense of it yet, but I can’t wait to really understand her.

We had a birthday party for her with a group of friends and family, and I was struck by how isolating early parenthood can become. I had seen many of my friends (people that I’d spent most weekends with years ago) just a handful of times over this past year. Parenthood enforces priorities on your life and, in the case of this dad, it’s been primarily family (Ivy and E) and work.

It’s hard to even remember what life was like before E landed in our lives. A year ago right now, I was bewildered. We were holding a tiny newborn in our arms at the hospital, asking every nurse in sight for advice. Any advice. I remember the first night, checking on her every five minutes, convinced that I had swaddled her incorrectly and concerned that she might not less us know if she was hungry.

What was the week before that like? The month? What the fuck did I even do with all of my time? It’s impossible to remember.

Some friends have said that the 12–18 month range is their favorite of early parenthood. The development and change apparently speeds up, ratcheting up the fun with it. She’s so perfect right now though, with her energy, opinions, assertiveness, and love. Watching her reach for her mom when she’s concerned is incredibly heartwarming and intense.

I hope she never grows up, but I know that we’ll wake up tomorrow with a new change to look forward to. Parenthood comes at you really fast. Here’s to the next year.