Measure in Love

My son is one year old today - a toddler, a little man.

He's moved on from crawling to taking several hurried steps from object to object.  He says "mama" although not "dada" yet.  He is stubborn and curious.  He bites you to make you listen to him.  He shows affection by wildly waving his arms and hitting you in the process.  He likes to touch your face.  He loves people except when they are gathered in large groups.  He's a bit of a bully with other kids his age.  His naps have vastly improved and he continues to sleep through the night.  He has memorized every inch of our apt and in any moment that I'm not paying enough attention, he will take off for one of his favorite things, such as the diaper pail or fan in his room, the toilets in the bathrooms, a wall hanging in the hallway, the nightstands in the guest room, the closet in the master bedroom, or the cabinets in the kitchen.  He is adorable.

My favorite song from the musical Rent (I've seen it twice) is "Seasons of Love."

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - 

how do you measure, measure a year? 

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In
inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - 

how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. 

Seasons of love.