To My Son on Your First Birthday

I wrote you a beautiful (almost poetic) letter for your birthday. When I read it back to myself, I was really impressed with what I had created. Still, it was missing something. For days I have been trying to correct it. I was thinking about it this morning while the sun was coming up through the lens of my camera, and I found it. I found what was missing.

From the day I knew I was going to have you, you have been the most real, most sincere person in my life. Given your propensity for candor, I feel you deserve nothing less from me. So poetic prose will have to step aside. I'll just tell it like it is.

The day you were born was possibly the greatest relief I have ever felt in my life. When mothers say this kind of thing, it is generally an expression of how grateful we are that you are healthy and beautiful and wonderful and sweet and perfect. I am not ungrateful, but my relief came from you finally getting your heels out of my spine.

You are a nocturnal creature. My farmville farm was rockin' the first eight months of your life. I was really sleepy. Often.

You have a talent matched only by your father for creating unfathomable scents with nothing more than your own biology. I left you on the changing table more than once to be relieved of my lunch.

You teach yourself so much. You learn so fast. Your understanding of basics physics far exceeds the average one year old. Your father and I are so proud.

You wrap your arms around my neck every time I pick you up. You always have. You hold me more often than I hold you. You comfort me more often. I miss you every time I set you down. You warm my heart.

Your smile is more sincere than that of any creature I have ever witnessed. Your eyes are open and clear; your love radiates through them.

As I watch you grow, I know in my heart I would never trade you. Not for any person or experience or item that has, could possibly, or will never exist. And its a good thing. The warranty just expired.

Extra Pickles

This past weekend resulted in a LOT of big trash. Unfortunately, big trash day isn't until next week, so the large boxes and packing material will just have to remain stacked by the fence in the back yard. And while it is no secret that large cardboard boxes make the best toys and busting up packing materials can be the most fun (and one of the messiest) activities ever, it is still entertaining as a parent to see exactly what spin your child puts on the game.

Sam is playing outside. I'm watching her through the back door. She reaches into one of the boxes and pulls out a long piece of foam. She breaks the foam into several smaller pieces, and fills her brother's old Easter bucket from the toy chest. I can hear her talking the whole time, but the washer is running and I can't really understand what she is saying. After each piece of the foam is carefully placed in the bucket, she picks it up and opens the back door to come inside.

"Sam, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm selling tacos."

"Tacos?"

"Mmm hmm. With extra pickles"

My little entrepreneur.