Of course I know my child. Like most mothers, I can tell you what foods he likes (all of them), what makes him laugh (inexplicably, he cackles when he watches me take any sort of pill), and what really pisses him off (getting his diaper changed; pretty much anything that disrupts him from playing or eating). Yet some days I feel like, "Who is this little being in my house? Where did he come from? When did I become a MOTHER?" I really can't believe it's been a year (as of tomorrow!). It feels more like two months. And, I still feel like I'm faking it most of the time.
Objectively, I know I'm doing fine at this motherhood thing. He's healthy, he's happy, we're all getting some sleep. What more can you ask for at a year? Yet, you can never let your guard down. Just when I think I've got a handle on things, everything changes. I'd finally figured out bottles and that feeding schedule, and now we need to move to sippy cups. I'd gotten the hang of changing and dressing a newborn, but all of the sudden I have a wiggly, screaming toddler to contend with.
So yes, I know Will--I know the two-month-old, the seven-month-old, and now the twelve-month-old. But just when I get to know one baby, another one is rounding the corner. I can already see glimpses of Will the fifteen-month-old: walking, using more words, laughing a lot. I just have to trust that I'll get to know him and love him just as much as I have with the other stages of Will. Hopefully I will always been able to figure out what makes him smile, how to quiet his cries, and how to let him know that he is very, very loved.