Filed under: America, Birthday, China, Dad, Daddyhood, England, Family, Jill, Love, New Zealand, Otis
So on Sunday, it’s Otis’ 8th birthday.
Eight.
He is basically growing up way too fast.
So fast, I wish the police would come and tell him to slow down.
It seems like only yesterday I took this ridiculous photo of him, mere minutes old …
… but here he is, 8 years later, full of life, love and joy.
He is such a wonderful boy.
Of course I’d say that, but he is.
Kind, considerate and always trying his hardest.
If anything, I wish he pushed the rules a bit more – but even his teachers say what a good kid he is. And given the challenge of recently being diagnosed with disgraphia, that’s even more wonderful to hear.
That he had started to suffer anxiety because he thought he wasn’t good enough because he couldn’t keep up with the other kids in class with writing – breaks my heart. But fortunately his teachers noticed quickly, designed a different way for him to express and contribute in class and now he’s growing back in confidence which makes me so proud.
Both of him and his teachers.
But then, where he’s concerned, he has consistently revealed his compassion and resiliance.
From moving country so many times to choosing to cutting his long hair to help ‘kids with cancer’ to being a tough little cookie when he got rushed into hospital for an emergency operation within a week of turning 7 … he’s a phenomenal human.
And now he turns 8.
EIGHT.
While there’s many thing I could wish for him this year, I think the main thing would be to continue with what he’s got.
Stability.
A safe, calm home environment.
His network of buddies and mates.
Outlets for his energy, interests and cheekiness.
A range of people who support his individual needs personally, accadmically and emotionally.
Of course he may want different things … of which I assume Superman and Transformers would feature heavily … but having a place he can continue to be connected to and enjoy is one he may – in time – also appreciate.
We’ve always known this.
And wanted this for him.
So to be able to give him it – and see how much he has blossomed because of it – is a dream.
And while we know we won’t be here forever, like all parents, what we do want is for him to be happy and fulfilled.
To not fear the unknown.
To embrace his interests and curiosity.
To feel safe in being able to express who he is and how he feels.
Maybe that’s a pipe-dream … after all, the world can be a challenging and tough place.
But NZ does offer – at least until kids are 11 or 12 – an environment where this way of life is more possible than anywhere else we’ve lived.
And he deserves that.
He deserves to be in place where he feels he can belong.
Not that he didn’t have that in other places, but he was either too young to realise its importance or we were not there long enough for him to feel it.
And that’s something I still regret.
I have a photo of him saying goodbye to his friend on our last day in America that still breaks my heart.
There he is, in his socks and on our drive – after running out the front door of our house – giving Jack a big hug after he realised he may not see him again.
The guilt I still feel about that is one I don’t know I’ll ever get over.
Which is probably what I deserve, given I was the reason for it.
I just hope Otis knows I never want to hurt him … never want to rob him of the people who mean so much to him. Which is why I’m so glad Elodie is still in his life, despite it now being filled with what seems a 1000 new friends from his school and community.
Watching that develop and evolve is one of the most beautiful and special things I’ve ever witnessed.
Sure, there’s the odd drama, but generally it’s a really happy and healthy group. Kids who look out for each other. Supportive, encouraging and just kind. They’re a better example to society than my generation … which is why I hope we don’t fuck the world entirely before they can come in and fix it.
Not that they should have to take on that burden, but that’s the generosity of that generation.
A desire to help everyone prosper, not just the usual suspects.
Of of which my son is one of them … reaffirmed by the goals, ambitions and hopes he tells us he has for his life.
Which is why I want to leave this post with this message to him.
Otis.
My wonderful, beautiful, brilliant Otis.
I love you.
Not a day goes by where I am not proud to be your Dad. Where you make me laugh at your observations of what’s happening in life. Where you blow me away with your passion and enthusiasm for life … from watching endless Kids Youtube, to your love of all things Marvel through to the way you literally transform into this powerful, confident, graceful human fish the moment you enter water.
And every little thing in-between.
You’re brilliant Otis. Proper brilliant.
Not just for what you do, but who you are.
I am so proud of you …
Proud for how you embrace life.
Proud for how you embrace challenges.
Proud for just being a kind, compassionate, considerate kid.
And as much as I wish you weren’t growing up so fast, it’s offset by the joy of seeing who you are becoming. Go forth in life with courage and optimism. It’s very easy to just be seized by the cynicism and darkness of the world … but people like you give it light.
You give it to me.
You light up my whole world.
Happy birthday Otis … you make your Mum and Dad the happiest parents in the World.
Rx