Dear Isaiah,

There are four major milestones that have occurred in the past two weeks.  On Tuesday, November 9, you kneeled in front of the one-step landing which leads to the staircase and, after several minutes of contemplation, climbed your first step on your own.  It took some contorting of your chubby limbs and some sliding around, but you did it.  Your Dad and I were there to watch you and clapped and cheered when you were finished.  You were so excited you bounced for a minute straight.  Knowing I was leaving for five days on a trip to El Salvador in the morning, I started crying.  Typical.

Sunday, the day I returned from El Salvador, the longest amount of time that I’ve ever been away from you, I asked your Dad if any major milestones happened (I was praying you’d wait to walk or say your first word when I was around), and he excitedly told me, “Today, Isaiah clapped for the first time.”  And sure enough, the next day when I led you down a path, luring you to clap after me, you patted your little hands together in not the loudest clap, but a bona fide smack of two palms meetings.

Yesterday, Saturday, after a whole day of watching you crawl and then straightening your legs like you were in a yoga downward dog position, you waited for an occupied moment.  Your Tita Carmen, Dad, and I were all laughing, talking about the wedding, and upcoming plans.  It was then you noticed a very shiny, a very unusual looking object in my hand: a beer bottle.  And it became so fascinating to you that you just had to touch it.  And you grabbed and grabbed and grabbed.  I was so concerned about you licking a drop of my cider beer and the clear detriment it would have on your development that I nearly missed an important question softly blinking in the back of my mind: How is he able to reach my bottle while I’m sitting on the couch?

YOU STOOD UP.

And it was then I freaked out and yelped at Nick and your Tita, “Do you see him?  Are you watching?  Can you believe it?”

And there it was, there you were, leaning up against the couch, standing for the first time like you truly, really, genuinely wanted something.  It was a beer bottle.

Finally, the last milestone, which was the most stunning of all progressions happened quite randomly and I’m glad there were witnesses because, otherwise, no one would have believed me.  Tuesday, I brought you into work and when we were getting ready to leave, with four co-workers waving goodbye, you extended your little arm and bopped it up and down and responded to my friend Marie with, “BAH BYE!”

Silence.  Complete and utter silence.  We were shocked.  We just witnessed your first word, and in my thrill didn’t really mind it wasn’t “mom” and to hear you make an association between your verbal ability and a physical motion was just out of this world.  Truly.

So, today, on your 11 month birthday, I can only marvel at your growth.  It feels like each passing day comes with endless riddles of guessing what might happen today, what might shock those around you, what might someone miss if they are not with you.  So, Isaiah, these days I am grateful to the heavens above that I am with you.  That I have a place in the world that allows me to work and watch you grown.  Be with you, hold you, scream for your Dad upstairs the seconds before you conquer your first step, widen my eyes at my co-workers after your first words, and nearly spill my beer all over your head in ecstacy when you stand, and clap like a fool when I am ridiculously proud of you for learning to put your hands together.  For every moment that I witness your little life building with strength and accomplishment, I say litanies of gratitude.

Eleven months doesn’t seem quite possible, but, then again, neither does that wondrous amount of goodness and love you have brought to our family.

Love,

Mama