Little Mister One-Year-Old

Busy as things have been, I have utterly neglected to do birthday posts about Mister the last couple of months- including the biggest baddest birthday post of all!
That's right, Little Mister completed His first trip around the sun, and has kept blasting through since then.
It's so hard to believe it was a whole year ago that he arrived. 14 hours of stagnant labor and then BOOM! Baby.  But it was, and it turns out that is still His style.
After several months of cruising around the sofa without any interest in letting go, He took His first step at His birthday party.  He'd happily grace us with one, *one* step any time after that, but didn't seem to have any ideas about bipedal ambulation whatsoever.
Until last week, when we were playing together in the living room.  I was holding Him up by His hands, singing, and He let go to clap.  And didn't fall.  He balanced there, and a light went on in His eyes.  I didn't say a word, I just smiled and held my breath.  I held my arms out and He took one, two, three-four steps into my hug, and we cheered.  Then He pulled up again, let go, grinned at me, and then slowly, carefully, turned around- balance!- took a step- teeter...teeter...balance!- took a breath, and walked across the whole room.
And just like that, we have a walker. Boom.
And a climber.  As suddenly as He figured out walking, Mister became the stair master.  And also can ascend ladders and the slide, stack things to climb them and reach the sofa (or something dangerous), and open the drawers of the china cabinet and climb those to reach the glass doors and bang on them, looking probably for something dangerous.
He seems to be a danger-seeking missile, streaking through the world in search of whatever will terrify me the most.  He knows if the bathroom door is open.  By baby ESP.  He beelines for the toilet water.  (shudder).  He can pry the covers off of some of the outlets.  He goes right over the edge of things like a happy little lemming.  On Christmas, He figured out the child latch on the kitchen sink, busted in, and got a nice bite of dishwasher-detergent before I got to Him.  What's a holiday without calling poison control anyways?  He was very proud of Himself.
But Mister has accomplished all sorts of things since that last birthday post an eon ago.  He has arrived at a state of consciousness in which He is watching, listening, learning a mile a minute.  He understands what we are saying and, wonderfully, we are starting to understand Him too.
He has His words, nothing new so much as a more grown-up clarity.  "Ah-da" has become a true "All done",  "Da!Da!Da!Da!" is a concise "Do-g".  Common phrases we use are starting to take shape, the proper consonants are not there, but the vowels and the intonation mimic us so closely that I'm starting to know what He means.
Baby sign language, which has been fun for awhile now, has become a richly useful tool, saving us I'm sure from many potential whimpers and whines.  He now knows to not only recognize them when we use them, but to use them Himself to achieve things.  When He's hungry, He doesn't cry.  He pulls at our leg, grins and signs "food".  When He's wet, He signs for "change-change" instead of fussing. He is FINALLY, starting to tell us "all done" BEFORE making it clear by dumping all of His leftovers onto the floor. When He wants His sister's water cup, He points and signs "drink", and His adoring sister unfailingly hands it over, cooing all over Him about how smart He is and how sweet He is to want to share.
Yep.  He has them that wrapped around His chubby little finger.  Little Mister thinks His Sisters are the most wonderful people on the planet, and they more than return the sentiment.  I'm not sure any baby in the history of ever has been doted on like this one.
Now that He's big enough to be into everything, I had some expectations that His perfection in their eyes may begin to tarnish.  Not yet.  When He smashes their lego castles, they look briefly devastated and then say, "Yay, Mister! You sure crashed that tower right down! Want me build you 'nother one to crash?"  He claps and they are putty in His hands.  It's fun for me to sit by and watch not just the Sisters playing together, but all three of them now, zooming trains around the floor, stacking blocks, banging on instruments and making 'music'.  
Suddenly, I don't have two kids and a baby.  I have three kids.
This might be totally terrifying, if Little Mister weren't so unnaturally easygoing.
But He is.  He's happy as a lark to be played with, talked to, visited by anyone, hauled around wherever you want to go.  He's fine and dandy being left utterly to His own devices, to go bang on things and push them around the floor going "vvrrrrrrmmmmm" all day.  He eats everything, naps like a dream, and only bothers me sometimes at night.  And it's only because He wants a cuddle.
He has grown to really, really love a cuddle.
For a brief while, I was shocked to find my easy baby diverging from His even temperament to pitch little fits at the silliest times.  Until I realized the problem was that, other than the cuddles, He is just about over being a baby.  He wants to know everything, to do everything. By. Him. Self.
Once I got that memo, he went back to being the happiest little thing ever.
He no longer fusses in His highchair and bats away His food.  Because now I set down the bowl and the spoon or fork, and He feeds Himself.  It's actually less messy than it was trying to feed Him and getting steamed kale catapulted all over the dining room.  It turns out He likes the kale just fine (and anything else under the sun), so long as He puts in in His mouth Himself.  
He no longer writhes and hollers on the changing table, either.  Now I hold out the arm hole and say, "ok, get dressed", and He grins and carefully puts His arm through.  Now He helps fasten His own diaper, smiling and proudly signing "change" when it's done.  I set His pants out in front of Him and He steps in, one foot.  Then the other.  We pull them up together.
He doesn't cry at nap time anymore, either.  It wasn't the impending nap He objected to; He just wants to put on His own sleeper, to choose the story Himself from the shelf.
He doesn't mind my taking His toys away when it's time to go, just so long as I point to where they go, say "let's clean up", and leave Him alone to put them away Himself.  And He does.
He had hated my cooking or doing dishes, whimpering at my feet.  Now I let Him stand on the little ladder the girls use to help me, and let Him stir, help pour, wipe the sponge maniacally all over the counter, or splash in the water while I wash dishes.  He just wants to help.
Life takes more time, but it goes more smoothly.  And really, I'm too impressed with Him to be annoyed.  Maybe because He is the littlest of my Littles, I still see Him as a baby and am surprised each time He shows me something new He can do on His own.  There seems to be something else each day!

Favorites:

His fave toy was given to him by our neighbor, who also happens to be His pediatrician.  It is a wooden box with a hole in the top, and a xylophone on the bottom.  He sets a ball over the hole, bangs it with a little hammer until it falls through and rolls down the xylophone, making a lovely sound.  Repeat. Repeat.  Repeat forever.

He loves banging all things, really.  Especially with hammers.

He likes to take things apart, and try to put them together again.  To dump things out, then put them away again.  Except the kitchen cupboards.  That stuff He never puts away.

He likes to push stuff around.  Trucks, cars, trains, duplos, doll strollers, wagons.  His Sister's dress-up shoes seem to be a favorite.  Apparently, high-heels with pink fluff on top go "vvvrrrrrrrmmmmmm" when they slide across the floor.

He likes books so long as He selects them and gets to turn all the pages.

He loves the toy airplane ride-on and the tree blocks He got from grandparents for Christmas.

He likes to swing, to slide, to ride the merry-go-round.

He still LOVES water and His bath.

He still LOVES pat-a-cake and will play it with anyone, anytime, and sometimes with Himself.

He likes food.  All the food.  His favorite food is everything.  Are you going to finish that?  His favorite food is what you're having.

He loves music.  With passion.  With dancing, with clapping, with sounds of glee.

He loves dogs, especially ours, and children, especially ours.

And, ok.  He likes practically everything.

I tried to think of a list of things He doesn't like and really....I got nuthin'.

He's just a happy guy.

I already miss His babyhood.  I feel like I have slowed down to soak in it, to deeply appreciate it. Extra, because His Sisters have shown me how fast it flies, extra because who knows if it's my last, extra because He happened to be a baby during such an eventful, tumultuous time for our family, and so the minutes seemed to evaporate the moment they were born.
As much as I savored it, it slipped by so quickly all the same.  But as much as I miss having a baby, I am daily more aware of how lucky it is that at any age I will always have this Little Mister, this fabulous person, around in our lives.  Like a little rolling ball of fire; slightly destructive, but full of warmth and light.
Looking ahead to Little Boy Mister, I am just so excited about watching Him grow and learn and become.  He is a true joy to parent, and I don't think any of us could tell you how on earth we got along without Him before last year.
Happy birthday to my little ball of fire, my son-shine, my Mister.  We love you so.