With that, I wish to take advantage of Autumn's first birthday as a means of recollecting a random scatter of memories from these last six months.
On Autumn's first birthday, I will remember (in no particular order):
1) Autumn's early efforts to understand her world were a bit like the story of the blind men groping about to categorize an elephant. She gradually learned to master her surroundings. She began to taste, be it a Blackberry, or her first handful of backyard dirt. From barely making eye contact to wildly expressive facial interactions demanding a banana being brought to within her reach. In six months she moved from the achievement of rolling over to having the fearless confidence to scale any obstacle.
2) finding myself researching the details of administering CPR to a baby - only after watching her scarf down a whole string cheese in several massive bites - using only her two teeth. The power of the gnaw.
3) her first jam session - a four keyed piano emerged as a favorite banging toy for an afternoon. Stranger more that she chose the piano over her usual preferred big kid toys - the TV remotes.
4) the waiting game that is her first legitimate steps ... she's been capable for the last 3 months, but is contented to drop to the floor and race over to the open refrigerator door to climb in. All that is needed is a destination.
5) the capacity to make a stranger's day. She earned the nickname, icebreaker. Even the steeliest hardcore-cold NYer would quickly melt in to putty to smile and wave at the stroller strapped, stylish outfit wearin', baby girl.
6) in a similar vein to #5, lets not forget the gay vote ... when out shopping with Mom in SoHo and the Village, it is simply one word: accessories. Often received an A for effort by the flamboyant natives. Totally unrelated, but if the Obama campaign wanted to ensure victory, they should buy bumper sticker space on her stroller. (note, most definitely NOT an endorsement in any capacity).
7) power cord tug of wars.
8) motorboating to mimic humming sounds.
9) a righteous fear of green grass. particularly, lawns. If one were to place Autumn on a blanket in the middle of a summer field, it might as well have been a tiny island in the south pacific. She aint going nowhere. Terrified.
10) the fourth of july and her first (three) hotdogs. Ketchup became the preferred condiment. Doritos were also received favorably. The diapers for the next two days, were not.
11) long, half-hearted moans when she began to get tired. That, and after our move to Larchmont, she would simply climb the stairs to her bedroom - a clear request for a nap.
12) the never ending amazement generated by the constant breeze blown from an air conditioning unit when one's face is pressed up against the screen.
13) her waiving goodbye in the morning as I leave for the train - or charging toward the door when I arrive home in the evening. Its as if we have a small beagle.
14) "arms up" getting the appropriate response when she decides to to help put on her own clothing.
15) organizing the magazine and newspaper racks to her liking.
16) her first taste of red wine. Blue label too.
17) a disastrous run-in with an open jar of Vaseline left too close to the crib during nap time.
18) a preference for daddy's shoulders when confronted with a new and unfamiliar place ... adding some height for perspective while surveying the land.
19) who needs a complete weather station when you've got an Autumn - she acts as a fool-proof barometer and is capable of predicting a storm.
20) her unabashed love of her parents. the first time she gave us each our own genuine hug was topped only by her learning of the phrase, "kiss-kiss" and the slobbery smooches that followed. There's no doubt, she is now "Daddy's little girl".
Now that we are in the first day of her second year, it's remarkable how much cognitive ability that elephant groping has provided her. I can only excitedly await the experiences that will follow over the next 365 days, and then some. Congratulations and Happy Birthday to our little Autumn, we love you forever.
