To my son on his first birthday

Hi, this is Walter's Mummy here (what? don't get you nappy in a knot...of course I know your Blogger password...if you ever end up having a sister I will know the password to her on-line diary when she's a teenager too!) I'm not here to defend myself from all your World's Worst Mother allegations, or to explain why I won't let you have junk food or run with the good scissors, I'm here to wish you a happy birthday.
To my darling boy,It has been one year since you came into our lives,52 weeks since we saddled you with a name like Walter (a pox on all those people who said "You cant call the poor child that!", I bet they cant imagine you as anything else now and I still think you have the hippest name in the playground), 365 days that I have been your mother. The last year has been the quickest, hardest, most wonderful year of my life. From the blissful 'Gee this is easy' first three months to the agonising 'eating and sleeping is for pussies' next three months, to the last six months of playing, work, childcare and normal life.
I love the way that your face lights up when you see me and you drop what you're doing and crawl over to me demanding to be hugged. I love the way you rest your head on my shoulder and then try to slip in a sneaky 'nibble' on my collarbone. I love the way that you use my legs as a balancing rail when I'm trying to make coffee or do the dishes.
I love the way that you probably love Daddy just that little bit more than you do me (it suits my inner maschocist, having to work for your affection) and the way you follow him around the house when he gets home until he relents and plays with you. I love the way that you never let poor Nellie have a moments rest, that she is just a little dog shaped entertainment package in your eyes.
I get a kick out of seeing you reach those alternative milestones like tearing the first cover off a book (Australian Impressionist painters in the 1890s, I believe...excellent taste, my boy...that'll learn that Arthur Streeton!) or watching you hide your blocks and cars in the tea towel drawer. You seem to have gotten your love of musical instruments (nay, anything that makes noise!) from Daddy and your love of books from me. I love hearing you laugh, from the deep belly laugh of when we tickle that spot between your second and third chins, to your expectant giggles when you're hiding in the lounge room curtains, waiting for someone to find you.
So, my beautiful bear, I wish you a very happy first birthday. I thank you for what you have brought into our lives, and I thank you for being our son.