5 Years...Wow how time flies. It seems just like yesterday you were just learning to walk and wearing footie pajamas. Now you are watching baseball and football games with me and arguing about bad calls with the TV just like I do.
Let me start by saying how proud I am of you...
I am amazed at your ability to read and write as well as you do. I am proud of the fact all your teachers have nothing but good things to say about you. I am thankful for your unapologetic insistence that we all go to church on Sunday, even when daddy would rather stay home. I am thankful for the understanding of your role as big brother and I am touched when I see that it breaks your heart when your mom or myself has to point out when you are setting a bad example.
Perhaps most of all I am proud of the little man I see you becoming. I love how you are so interested in everything...Space, cooking, animals, insects, dinosaurs, cars, and perhaps most important, Jesus. It makes me proud when you would rather watch How It's Made than any episode of Spongebob or Scooby-Doo. I am in awe at how much you know about Star Wars at such a young age, and happily sit through the saga over and over and over...
I watch you and your brother interact all the time. The enormous size of your heart always makes me smile. You are always making sure your snack has enough for your brother as well, never eating that second Pop-Tart because that one belongs to Emerson. You are always willing to sit at the table and eat so that your brother will stay and eat, even when all you really want to do is watch TV. And, on the time when you get a little rough and hurt your brother, it breaks my heart to see how bad it makes you feel, but proud of you for being hurt.
You graduate Pre-School next week...With flying colors I might add. The amazement of the things you know from your teachers always makes me smile. You start big boy school in the fall when you begin Kindergarten. I want you to always keep that sense of wonder about you. I hope you are always searching and learning, finding new things that peak your interest. I know you will do well in Kindergarten. You will love your teachers and make new friends. You will attend birthdays and maybe even sleepovers...Yeah I don't know about the sleepovers...
Today is your day. Today is all about you. Today we mark you as one year older, and one year wiser. Today you step forward in this crazy thing called life and we as parents expect a little more from you. Clean room, less crying fits, more responsibility for your things and chores. I have no doubt you will embrace this and succeed just like you do everything else.
Everyday I find myself wanting to be more like you instead of wanting you to be more like me. And for that....I am proud of you son, and I love you to the moon and back. Happy birthday!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Saturday, March 05, 2011
I figured since Emerson Duane named after Duane Allman, I should have something in his room referencing his name sake. I looked at tons of posters, both framed and unframed. Then I found this work of art below. I think it will work just fine....Just fine indeed...
Posted by Nicholas Gossett at 10:54 PM
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Emerson Duane: AKA “E-Rock”
I can see your mother is not enjoying being pregnant quite as much this time around. She’s way more tired this time and exhausted all the time. Just know it is not your fault and she would happily do it all over again and again. We are both already so much in love with you and I’m probably a little more excited to meet you than I was with your older brother. This is one of the advantages of being second born. Of course, there are a lot of great things that first-born children get to experience with their first time parents, but the same thing goes for the second child. While it might seem redundant, it’s not, it’s just different. Your mother and I are very curious how you will compare with your older brother. How will you be similar? How will you be different? Who will you look like? We cannot wait to see these things take shape, as you both learn from each other. I cannot wait until March 15th and we throw on some Duane Allman and let you meet the world.
Mommy, Daddy, and Keaton
Posted by Nicholas Gossett at 8:32 AM
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
It’s official. Valentine’s Day has now passed New Year’s Eve as my least favorite holiday. Yup, I hate it more than Arbor Day, Bastille Day, Grandparents Day, Ash Wednesday-- whatever you got.
I don’t really recall but years ago, around fourth and fifth grade, I imagine I loved Valentine’s Day. Why not? I was the chubby but good-looking kid who always received the most valentines from my female classmates. One year the teacher, for whatever reason, conducted his own private poll (he’d be arrested for this today, no doubt) and every girl in the class whispered in his ear that she had a crush on yours truly. And who could blame them? However, today, after being marrried, fat and happy, if a woman under the age of seventy smiles at me at the mall I practically skip all the way back to my house. Sigh..... I’ll be right back…I'm going to go drown myself...
OK, enough with the self-pity.... I think I might have enjoyed the holiday back before the spoilsport Christians wrapped their self-righteous fingers around it. In Ancient Rome February 14th was celebrated as a day to honor the god Juno. And the next day was the Feast of Lupercalia, when all the young women in town each got to draw the name of a young man to whom they would be “paired” for the duration of the festival, and it wasn’t for volleyball if you know what I mean.....For the slow....It was so they could get bucknasty and get their freak on, and that is what I call a holiday worth taking a personal day for!
I’ve been uncomfortable for a while about our modern bogus celebration of love, but it really hit home last year at work as I watched woman after woman receive the flowers or candy or stuffed animals that were being delivered to the office in a constant stream throughout the day. You could tell the bell had rung, the gates were open and the race was on! And woe to the sorry-ass husband who didn’t at least finish in the Show position in this race, the ultimate competition to see who is truly “the most beloved.” Ugh...I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit...
The thing is the idea of Valentine’s Day is all right in its own way (though I’d still rather draw names and get some strange) but it’s become such a commercialized scam. I couldn’t go on living if I didn’t believe in my heart that there is a special super-white-hot circle of Hell (just above the one reserved for the Bin Laden family) waiting for those flower sellers who double or triple the price on a wilting bunch of flowers because they know that we, the husbands and boyfriends, and God help your wallet if you happen to be both, don’t have a choice.
We do, of course, have a choice, but even I, the most stubborn asshole you’re ever likely to meet, seem powerless to fight this annoying holiday. Last year I caved at the last minute and found myself in a line at Kroger hurriedly forking over twenty clams for one of their few remaining limp and fading mittfuls of short stemmed roses. And hating myself for doing it. Ah, well in the end we will do whatever it takes to make our loved ones smile just a bit...
Christian legend has it that St. Valentine, the clown credited with starting this hokum, was a priest who was imprisoned for performing outlawed marriage ceremonies around 270 AD. He would leave notes for that hot piece of ass, the jailer’s daughter, and sign them, “from Your Valentine.” Then he was executed. Sucks for him...I hope he at least got a handjob in the corner or something before his execution...Otherwise the whole thing would seem kind of pointless wouldn't it?
Posted by Nicholas Gossett at 10:11 AM