First, a letter to my son.

So, I see you've found your dad's blog! I knew you would. You're a resourceful little bugger, and you're Asian, so you're bound to be great with computers too.
You are a mystery to me. I know we have only just met, but already I love you dearly. I have been waiting for you all my life, my son. And I am very proud to be your father.

You have limitless potential, boundless possibilities. The whole world for you to explore and cherish…words unspoken and music unwritten, laughter bottled up inside you and tears yet to be shed. You will love, and maybe hate. You will learn and forget and remember. You will find…and you will lose. Friends you make will be with you for the rest of your life, if not in body, then in spirit, and in the ways that they shape who you become.

So, who are you? I hope that the environment that Mom and I have created for you has allowed you to ask that question and not be afraid of the answer. I hope you ask it every day, and always smile. I am thrilled with the fact that I have the privilege of knowing you and watching you grow. There is so much that I want for you and to share with you, but there is time for all this, no?

As I write this you are eight months old, and starting to get teeth. You gots two little fronts on the bottom that make your smile look even more adorable and come with about a bucket of drool each. At a little over 20lbs you are big for your age (especially for a happa kid), but solid like a little momotaro. You are strong for your size, but also strangely gentle...hard to explain exactly, but when you touch others or even pet animals, you don't grab like most kids. You pet with an open hand and a little smile dancing about your lips in total fascination. Every now and then you stop and look at me, your fingers still entwined in Bailee's fur and a wide-eyed look of wonder your face. My greatest pride in you lives in this gentleness, little warrior. My heart swells and I plant kisses all over your face as you giggle when my whiskers tickle you.

I watch you grow, little one.

Every day you amaze me with your curiosity and ingenuity. I know any day now you will be crawling with me chasing you all over creation, swearing and laughing and sometimes wishing you were still that stationary little dude. I watch you grow, and every day I wonder how I am ever going to make you aware of all the dangers in the world without becoming obsessed with them. However, I have a faith in you that I don't seem to have in most grown ups. I believe in you, and everything you want to be.

So we will walk together, my little one. We will adventure into the world laughing wildly while our hair flies all around us like raven feathers and our clothes whipping it the wind and the voices of our past urging us on to great things. I will show you how to find your way at night, and how to find your wings when you think they are gone.

Fly the sky of your imagination.