Hazel's birthday

Hazel is one. ONE!

This fact is hard to believe for opposite reasons: I’m feeling both “Has it really been 12 months already? It doesn’t feel like that much time has passed!” and “Has it only been 12 months? It feels as though Hazel’s been around forever!” 

This is Hazel a year ago:

This is her at 6 months old:

And this is her at almost-one, playing a game Moses invented which involves Mo trying to get his finger away before Hazel bites it and makes him cry:

This is Hazel just hanging out:

And this is Hazel stuck in a stool:

(The photo’s terrible because I was laughing so hard taking it quickly so I could then rescue her.)

When Moses was a baby, I’d guess at possible future careers for him based on his interests. I’d imagine me one day telling everyone that we just always knew he was going to be a locksmith (for example), because he was so fascinated by the deadlock on our front door (for example). I’ve been doing the same for Hazel, and I’m pretty sure that when she grows up she’s going to be a vacuum cleaner. We gave up cleaning the floors when Hazel was around 9 months old, preferring instead to let her crawl (“crawl”) around picking everything up and eating it: she gets fed and works on her fine motor skills, and we get spotless floors! Everybody wins! (THIS IS A JOKE.) Based on how often she hears them, I wouldn’t be surprised if her first sentence was either, “That’s not for eating!” or “Hazel! What do you have in your mouth?!” I’ve caught her munching into part of Mo’s leftover vegemite sandwich which I’d thrown in the bin a little earlier, and have also found her sucking on a (dead) cockroach. (UNFORTUNATELY THIS IS NOT A JOKE.)

Hazel loves food. She’s the only non-cartoon-character I’ve ever seen lick her lips when a meal approaches. She lunges at my lunches and races for the bin if I forget to put it up on the bench while doing laundry, and she’s therefore tried lots of things I’d never have given Mo by this age (peri peri sauce, gelato, vegemite sandwich, cockroach, etc.). Peas are her all-time favourite. Apples and pears were fun but now they’re boring. Carrots were fun, but now they’re boring. Peas were fun and now they’re still fun. She loves peas. She refuses to eat anything that has been mashed or in any way baby-fied; she wants whatever everyone else is having. Plus insects.

This is Hazel helping us unpack the shopping:

This is Hazel eating a corn thin with avocado:

And this is Hazel eating woodchips:

Hazel is playful, observant, funny and affectionate. Sometimes her facial expression or smile or the frustrated sound she makes has me wondering if she’s a much older person trapped inside a baby’s body. Over the year she’s morphed from a placid newborn into a spirited almost-toddler. She’s very good at communicating, despite being able to say only three words. Her first word was “no” (she crawls up to power points and as she reaches out to touch them she shakes her head and says “no”). Her second was “Dada” (Moses and I are convinced she says our names too. Sometimes. Mainly when no one else is around to hear it). Her third word was “more.“ She took her first (very wobbly) step two days ago.

Besides food, Hazel loves drinking water through a straw, poking bare bellies, playing peekaboo, having baths, taking the Duplo people out of whatever Mo builds, and being tickled. She loves her big brother, too, most of the time. She hates lying still for nappy changes, having anything she’s holding taken away from her (especially the Duplo people she just stole from whatever Mo built), and not being allowed to eat something that Mo’s eating. She’s very good at copying noises and actions (she holds her hands up for Twinkle Twinkle, and can make an impressive diamond shape when that line rolls around). Her latest tricks include blowing her nose whenever a tissue approaches, blowing her food if it seems too hot, turning around to get down feet first (from the bed or couch), climbing stairs and ladders, and strumming on her lips. Others have said she’s “determined” and “strong-minded,” and I’ve said “OHMYGOODNESS I DON’T THINK I’LL SURVIVE HER AS A THREE-YEAR-OLD.” (They’re great adjectives for an adult, though, so… only 17 years to go now.)

Hazel has a hundred different smiles, ranging from “I find you mildly amusing” to “YOU ARE THE FUNNEST PERSON EVER”, and she makes me want to say gaggy things about apples and eyes.

WE LOVE YOU, Hazely-woo. Happy birthday!