Naters, giving me a birthday cheer with a mug of Glühwein.
With Daddy at the Christkindlesmarkt
Nathan is now one-year old.
While I'm gutted I have to miss the big celebration back in Toronto, going away and being a bum for a year has to involve some sacrifice. When I left, the little guy was only eight-and-a-half months old, and cute as a button. Now that Nate is a year old, he's still as cute as a button. Thanks to the Internet, I can still 'see' him through e-mails, his baby blog, digital photos and video calls on Skype – though, the last time on Skype, he was infinitely more interested in eating raisins than 'conversing' with me.
I probably won't physically see him for another eight months. At least. But when I do, Nathan will be showered with gifts. Like the Argentine National Team football jersey I got for him in Buenos Aires. And this part of his birthday present:
Well, Nathan is Canadian, so he'll probably never be a rugby champ while playing for the National Team. But he can still be a rugby star.(I apologise for the horrific photo, but it was the best I could do at 6:00am on five hours of sleep.)
While Ken has dreams of Naters growing up to be a professional football player, I think he should play a real man's game. He already looks like he'll have some bulk on him when he gets older; and, if Ken and my one generation's worth of family and genetic history is anything to go by, Nate will be much bigger than any future brothers or sisters. The smaller ones can go play soccer.
I'm still looking for an All Blacks toddler's rugby jersey, but all the places I checked in Auckland were sold out. But I'm sure I'll find something in Rotorua, Wellington, Queenstown, Dunedin or Christchurch. I still have five weeks to look.
Happy Birthday, Naters!
Ken, Kathy: Give him a massive hug and kiss from me.
Related Entries:
1. Souvenirs
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