There is a part of me that wants to write a very long letter to you, describing your every move and personality traits and preferences and more. But I'm going to keep it simple. Because even the simple messages that I put in your baby book, the tiny memories that I save and paste somewhere special, they all join the same intention I have, which is not to be the stenographer of the memories of your childhood, but rather the curator of it.
You are so rarely stopped, Aaron. You run into a wall. You fall down in the slippery bathtub. You are hit in the head, you trip over your own little feet. You land on your diapered-butt hundreds of times a day as you've learned to walk.
But you always keep going.
I'm not saying there aren't tears (although it is pretty rare). But you just pick yourself up, you never stop going.
And the image of this, the fact that I know someone who is this determined... well it has inspired me through many a moment, tiny one.
What would Aaron do? Or what would Aaron say about this? The answer is always move forward and shove what is unwanted out of the way.
Thanks for being unapologetically yourself this past year, Boodle. I have needed to see it - we all have.
Happy, happy birthday.