Well Boy'O, it's been some time since I've written anything, not just as it pertains to you. In venturing into the world of entrepreneurship I've completely underestimated the value of my time. My time with you, my time for work, my time for Mommy, my time with friends, my time with motorcycling. Time. It just ticks on by, Son. No apologies. It's always against us. At least when we take it for granted. And it bears mentioning that I'm not. More, I'm prioritizing just about everything in my life yet again, but it's a healthy exercise to be sure...
Yes Son, I've not been much in the blogosphere of late but that doesn't mean I'm not burning to scream your every achievement, accomplishment, and milestone. There's just not enough time in the day it seems... Never the less, here I am! Dropping you a long over due line. So here goes...
Developmentally speaking Conor, you're just about all caught up. Socially you're fully aware and communicating in all the ways you know how. Physically you're strong enough to pick yourself up and pull yourself around virtually anything. You're quicker than a hiccup when it comes to crawling. Now, if you could just get this walking thing down...
Seems each time you feel brave enough to take your first step you let go whatever it is that's holding you up and promptly tale a header into a coffee table or toy box or a dog, whatever. This has led to an inordinate amount of bumps and bruises on your head and face. Looks like somebody's smacking you around, Son!
Of course it bothers me, as it would any parent! Though I realize it's all a part of the experience and so I'm prepared to wait it out. Assuredly, once we're past a battered forehead it's going to be all about skinned up knees and elbows. A boys life. But I've said it before and I'll say it again... Pain is temporary, chicks dig scars, but glory is forever... The glory of seeing you safely navigate your way around the room on your own two feet without damn near knocking yourself out will be cause for celebration, no doubt.
Soon, very soon, you'll be walking and I know how quickly I may eat some of these words. But no matter, Conor... I'll share the sweet taste of victory with you, as I will the bitter taste of defeat.
I love you, Conor. And I'm so proud of you. More and more each day...
