I've just been perusing my thoughts from last year and even the one before that. How did you ever get to be so big? A little piece of me is sad that I can no longer tuck you in the crook of my arm. This part of me is of course washed out and drowned when you tell me to "give you loves. And hug too. And kisses." You still reduce me to nothing but a burning hole in my chest and watery eyes that I have to blink through to type. This year you've become mobile. No longer confined to the small area could crawl to you've run and climbed into everything. We had to hide your binky's from you because you would stash them all over the house and pull them out when we took another one from you. We moved the spray bottle for the cats up high so you you wouldn't cahse them around the house telling them "naughty kitty!" I had to let you go far away without me and I hated it. Sure I was fine but I wasn't really happy until you and your mother got back.
You talk so much. You tell me about your day and what's happening around you. I am constantly surprised by the little details you pay attention to. Like when I tell you we are watching Good Eats and the first thing out of your mouth is "Where Good Eats guy?" becasue Alton Brown isn't onscreen. You are constantly asking about people you've met once in other cities, your Godfather, your Auntie (who lives in "Bookin") Things are insane this year, we are living in a sketchy hotel with a frifge next to the television and the couch next to the mini-range while we make our final preparations for the second biggest adventure your mother and I have ever had. And despite the distress of seeing your home emptied and packed up, your kitties crated and hauled around town you've handled it all with more grace and pluck than I have. I have, in fact, lost my shit on more than one occasion. But you are ready and not even two days in the tiny space that has become our temporary home you wander around it like that's the way it's always been. This next year is going to be the best yet. And I don't mean that in the true but cliche way that there is just going to be so much new and exciting things as you pass through the next year, but because I get to be there. Sure I'll have to work now and then but I will be home and I will get you all to myself in a brand new country that we can explore together and how cool is that?
I still love the way you dance and now it is bouncing arund in circles frenetically instead of a quiet little rythmic bob. I love that you told me your first joke and that road crossing chicken has never been funnier. The fact that you ask us to play Johnny Cash gives me hope for the future. You love your books still and one of the hardest things about packing was picking the ones that had to stay behind. Neil Gaiman made the cut though and we will read the Lucy story many many times in the year to come. I will never tire of reading to you. My voice might give out but I will never stop loving it. Soon we will be Cotland and who knows what else the future will bring. Just so long as it leaves this catch in my breath when you squeeze me I know all that is coming will be good.
P.S. This one is a little early because we have a busy busy weekend ahead and writing it now means daddy can sleep later. Daddy likes sleep, at least from what he can remember he does...