A year ago today, a purple, bald-headed, wrinkly man affectionally known as "melonhead" was born. He came into the world six weeks before his time. Some say it was fate. Some say it was destiny. Some say Lori didn't follow the doctor's orders concerning bed-rest. But whatever the cause, a little bundle of happiness came forth to enrich our lives with joy. And poop. But mostly joy.
He was a quiet and introspective child, and spent most of his early months comtemplating this strange new world. And pooping. But mostly contemplating. Bald as a cue ball, and serious as an undertaker, we eagerly awaited a crack in his stony facade.
And then, the deluge. Once he had determined that we were acceptable stewards of his well-being, he graced us with the light of his smile. We were overjoyed. The poops became almost fun, if a smile could be stolen in the process. But alas, the poop-to-smile ratio was still mind-numbingly large.
Over the following months, he surprised us again and again with his ever-increasing array of skills. From sitting, to crawling, and then to standing - he was always ready to try new things before we were ready for him to change. As soon as we could adapt to some new ability, he would move on to the next step. In the baby-raising arms race, Sean was building his arsenal faster than we could keep pace.
As time has progressed, his personality has started to emerge. Lori and I have learned the ins and outs of his sense of humor, and have quite a few techniques in our bag of tricks that will score a guaranteed laugh. He has become very independent. He can play alone without getting bored, but also enjoys a bit of rough play with his daddy. He has inherited him mom's sense of goofiness and good humor. The two of them can get each other to laugh with only a look. Lori has been the cornerstone on which this family is founded, and has become the mom I had always hoped (and expected) her to be.
He also seems to have picked up an affinity for absurdity from his daddy - as nothing seems to crack him up more than the sillier aspects of the world around him. Just today, he had a bout of side-splitting laughter from the mere sight and sound of a goose. Admittedly, if I were seeing a goose for the first time, I would think that Mother Nature had played a pretty good joke as well.
We'd really like to thank everyone who has visited Sean, and those who haven't yet been able to - but have thought about him nonetheless. It has been tough to be away from all of you this past year, and to not have been able to share Sean with the people we care about. The number of times we have said "I wish so-and-so could see this!" can't even be counted. Wish us luck in the coming year!
