My Dearest Natesy Cakes,
No matter how hard I try to stop time, you just keep getting bigger and bigger. You woke-up on the morning of your birthday and were certain you were taller. I measured you and of course, you were. In my annual tradition, it’s time for a mini memoir on Nate’s eight. And of course this year I’m going to test out a new format, as we’re all about innovation in mommy blogging.
For some reason, never in the history of your life have I really looked at you and thought, “Oh, he’s just like me… or his dad.” I mean you do sometimes look like your dad, only blonder, but there’s something about you that has always been just you. Not a miniature version of either one of us.
That said, there are little bits about you that seem to come from all kinds of characters, both real, fictional, close and remote…
Like your dad, you’re a big fan of tacos de carnitas and ice cream sandwiches. You ordered both for your weekday birthday dinner. Also like your dad, you’re very worried about being late. You like to be on time or early. There are certain people who claim this is a Fucillo-family trait. Hmmmm.
Like me, we both choose sour food. You love lemon bars and McConnell’s Eureka lemon marionberry ice cream and just lemons. You also love pickles and pickled stuff and think sauerkraut’s pretty good. You tell me you want to get good grades and of course, do all of the “opcional” problems. Like seventh grade me, you’ll play any sport: basketball, soccer, baseball, flag football? Sure. You can sleep anywhere. I put you in your bed and you’re immediately out. If I lay down, I’ll be immediately out with you.
In a challenging conundrum to unravel, you’re equal parts Granddad and Nonna. You can spend hours watching soccer games. You’re a loyal Man City cityzen. You spend hours playing front door soccer or indoor hamper basketball by yourself. You’ve got Granddad’s hairy legs and more bruises than Grandma.
Like Grandma, you love a good naughty joke. You relish the reaction. I’m unsure if you’re panache for potty talk and pushing buttons is inspired by being the youngest, your Grandma Suzy, or your Uncle Brett. Probably all three. You’re a prolific laugher and find the humor in everything.
You’re an adventurous eater. You’ll try anything. Any kind of sushi, escargot, the insides of a fresh crab on the Avila wharf from the super friendly Vietnamese fishmonger. You recently put in an unsolicited request for anchovies. You must get this from Papa. You’ve asked if when you grow-up you can live on top of a mountain with just your dog. I’m not 100% sure, but that dog’s name is probably River…
Like Kramer, you always make an entrance. You burst out of your room in the morning. You’re a loud walker. You ricochet off walls and door jambs. You have cool hair.
For your birthday you requested three books that are all about Science Technology Engineering and Math: Rosie Revere Engineer, Ada Twist Scientist and Iggy Peck Architect. You must get your interest in building things from your Uncle Geoff and your great grandfather, Pop. You’re a Harry Potter Lego-building boy robot. And like your uncle, you have a close-knit group of similarly sized, sandy-haired pals in Cruz, Kai, Reece, and Luca.
You’ve got a constant inner musical soundtrack featuring Pharrell and Los del Río. You must get this from your Auntie Jennifer Anne. Your interest in dancing and singing the Macarena is insatiable. You prefer a strong latin beat and some Spanish lyrics. You’ve also got the travel bug. You’ve asked if we can go to Spain to eat shawarma and to Mexico for tacos. You’re all in for sushi in Japan. You notice all people speaking different languages and love to ask questions about far off places. You speak Spanish, English, and Minion. Seriously. Every morning you greet me with, “Bellooo Mama-guena.”
And yet there are so many traits that are uniquely you. Your golden eyes and your golden skin and your golden hair. I catch you changing the toilet paper roll without prompting. I mean, who does that?? You’re very careful to save your popcorn until the movie starts. You’re ability to self-regulate is astounding. And your generosity is unmatched. No one in our family has ever been more willing to give away the giantist bites of their ice cream or entire peanut butter cups. You will always volunteer to drive with me if your brother chooses his dad.
We love you Nate. You are great. And while I see little bits of so many of our favorite people in you, there is only one you.
Love,
Mama