Rand...

Rand is a year old today.  I want to remember...

The unbridled rage he can summon over things that happen to him daily.

When he sees me unexpectedly, his face lights up, he flaps his arms and then crawls to me as fast as he can.

If I'm holding him and Chris walks up, he hurls himself to Chris.  If he's hungry, he requires that I not walk away during this demonstration of filial love.  Early life lesson:  When you are hungry, keep your food lady close.

The boys are crazy about him.  When they hear me put him down for a nap, they run upstairs and kiss and hug him goodnight.  When he wakes up, one of them usually goes up to his room before me.  Jacob has a list of games they play.  Most involve Jacob hiding in Rand's room somewhere and jumping out, possibly with screaming.  Really, I'm wondering if one of Rand's most painful life lessons may be when he realizes that the world at large was not created for his personal entertainment.

Playing with a ball is a complicated process.  We start sitting across from each other.  Less than ten seconds into the game, Rand remembers that I am a rock star and he must come and grab my shirt and suck his thumb.  Eventually, I roll the ball away from us.  Rand remembers the game and crawls after it.  He grabs the ball and sits but now his back is facing me.  He looks over his shoulder at me, befuddled.  Before long, he remembers his signature (and only) trick and throws the ball in a random direction, smiles and claps vigorously for himself.

He's got a smash and grab strategy when it comes to getting into forbidden things.  If he sniffs on the air that the Lego cabinet is open, the stairs are ungated, or the bathroom door  is open, he tucks his head down and crawls frantically for the relevant area.  Here's hoping that his strategies don't improve in his teenage years.

I love you, buddy.  I can't believe it's been a year.