Yep, another sappy baby Hudson blog post. Go figure. If you've been following my blog long enough you probably already expected today's post to be all about my little guy and me. 

My baby Hudson isn't so much of a "baby" anymore. Today at 5:20 p.m. he will be one year old. one. year. old. How did that happen?! I was just in labor. I was just pushing with all of my might. I was just holding my beautiful 7 pound, 12 ounce baby boy in my arms for the very first time. Just yesterday he cooed for the first time. Just yesterday he held up his own fragile little head for the first time. Just yesterday he sat up alone, and hopped across the floor on his belly. Just yesterday. Or at least it felt like it was just yesterday. 

The year has flown by. My "little little" is now a "big little".  I've watched him become a little boy, and such a charming little boy if I don't say so myself. 

This past year has truly been, as cliche' as it sounds, the very best year of my life. Without question, t-h-e best year.  It hasn't always been easy, nor has it always been joyful, but it has been perfect just exactly as is. 

I have grown so much not only as a mother, but as a person. As a woman. Being a first-time mommy has shown me where my "edge" is. I've learned just how little sleep I can actually survive on.  (Hopefully year two brings more sleep!)  And I do mean survive, because in the beginning that is what it was all about. Days, weeks are a blur. I remember snuggling with Hudson day-in-and-day-out for what seemed like months, though I'm certain it was likely only weeks. Maybe even days.

The biggest lesson I have learned this past year is that everything is temporary. It really is. For good and bad. Just when I thought Hudson was in a predictable routine, another milestone approached and the routine went bye-bye. And likewise, just about the time I thought I had no energy left for waking up every couple of hours, Hudson started sleeping six hours at a time. And then eight. And then ten ... It's all temporary. It gets easier and easier, just like everyone said that it would.

Another important lesson that I learned was that I am Hudson's parent, and although I'm new at this parenting stuff, I still know what's best for my baby. When Hudson was a newborn, Jamie and I struggled with making decisions for fear that we might make the wrong decision. As if there is ever truly a wrong or right decision anyway. I remember one of his friend's giving us the most sound advice when we asked him to make a decision for us. He told Jamie that part of parenting is making the tough decisions for our son and that we are the only people who know what's best for Hudson. That has really resonated with me over the past year as I've faced decision-making. It has been very empowering knowing (and I mean really knowing, believing) that I have all of the answers. I may fumble along the way, but I do the best that I know how.

This past year Hudson has learned how to roll over, crawl, walk, talk, giggle, snap his fingers, clap, wave, play peek-a-boo, give mommy raspberries, feed himself and give the best sloppy wet kisses you've ever had.  And he has six adorable pearly-whites. He's made snow-angels, body-sledded down a little mountain and he's been to Portland, Atlanta, Chicago and Hawaii.  We've had quite the active year and it's been an absolute ball. He really is my best buddy. 

I still remember the first second I laid eyes on my baby boy, as if it was just yesterday. On January 4, 2010, at 5:20 p.m. my whole world changed. Happy 1st Birthday, Hudson. You have no idea how much joy you bring to me each and every day. I love you so very much, and I can't wait to see what this next year has in store for us. 

Monday was a crappy day. It was a day that a daughter (or son) never expects to happen, but sometimes it just does. It was the day that my Dad decided he no longer wants to be a part of mine and my son's lives. Am I the only one? The only one whose father doesn't want a relationship with his own daughter? After days of sitting with so many mixed emotions I finally decided I would blog about it. 

Yesterday afternoon I was thinking about what I wanted to say and how much of my personal life I wanted to reveal. Would I actually tell the world that my own Dad doesn't want me in his life, or would I just speak about it in vague terms ? Or maybe I can talk about it without revealing that it was my dad who walked away versus some hypothetical family? What was I making it mean about 'me' that my Dad made this choice?

While I was pondering my approach I hopped on to a colleague's blog, and I saw a picture of a father holding his daughter's hand. At first glance I thought it was going to be a post about Amy's husband and their little girl, but once I started reading I realized it was not. As I read the first few sentences, I just about fell out of my chair. She posted it earlier that same morning. "When Your Parent Can't Give You the Love You Deserve." Clearly (and sadly) I am not the only one. 

I couldn't possibly discuss the subject any better than Amy already has, and therefore please visit Amy's post by clicking here.  Her post has given me so many gifts - most of all, perspective and compassion. Bravo to Amy for being so open and telling the truth.