I think it speaks volumes that I’m writing a recap of Fox’s first year on this planet when he’s actually 14 months old. I considered not writing anything at all, but I thought that I would regret that — so much has happened just in the last two months that I know I will blink and he’ll be 25.
Fox, my sweet boy. My booger butt. Buster Brown. Boogie Woogie. Squirm-a-worm. Turd McStuffins (only some days). I’m sorry about the embarrassing nicknames, but you know we can’t help it. We love you so much.
In the last year, everything we have done is for you. We moved across the world so we could have you near your amazing extended family — so your grandmothers could be near you because they literally cannot fathom going an entire week without seeing you. We wanted your father to be home to see you grow instead of being away so much, and though he says he doesn’t miss the Army, I know he really does, but he loves you so much I don’t think he’d know what to do with himself if he had to leave you for very long.
We wanted you to be near your family, and we wanted you to be raised at home, by us. Though we go stir crazy inside at times, and I stare at screens sometimes more than I should, I’m so glad I get to stay at home with you, and the thought of doing anything but that seems physically impossible. You’re so good at playing by yourself — content for such long periods of time, which makes it so much easier for me, especially when your dad and I are trying to do wild things like build businesses and get degrees.
You’re all boy. I don’t know what that means all the time, but you are — you love loud things and you love pushing things. You’re attracted to anything with wheels — the vacuum, your trike, shopping carts at the store, rolling clothing racks, your giant Tonka truck that your grandfather brought you, even though it’s big and plastic and yellow and does not fit my fake “no plastic toys” rule. That truck was your legs before you could walk. And it’s loud and you love it.
You’re sturdy. Your dad constantly remarks on how he’s so excited that you’re a solid guy, because he was picked on for being little when he was growing up. You’ve definitely got a lot of my genes — our baby pictures are twin-like, and you’ve got that Currid stance. You have your dad’s hair and lips — the rest is mostly me.
You’re the most content, inquisitive, adventurous dude around. You explore almost everything with your body, if not your mouth, and you love to climb on everything. You’re fearless. You’ve never met a stranger and love everyone you meet — smiling at anyone who talks to you, and maybe even letting them hold you. You love watching people and you’re happiest when we’re out of the house, so you can just see what’s going on.
You’re quick to smile, and you love to dance — my favorite memories of your first year are mostly dancing in the dining room with your dad, you on his shoulders or on my hip as we spin you around. You love to sing, too — just little hums while you eat or play. It’s my favorite sound in the world.
We love you so much, little Fox. You’re the first grandchild, the first nephew, our first baby, and you’re spoiled as heck. But you deserve every second of our love, all of our affection, and we can’t give you enough of it.