Happy 7th Birthday Colton Godfrey
Today is your 7th birthday, which is hard for me to believe. You’ve grown from a baby to a toddler to a boy. The curve is exponential and I’m loving the ride. Below are some of my favorite memories from the past 12 months.
Backyard Baseball: Right around you’re 6th birthday, we played a real game of catch. Until then, ‘catch’ meant me trying desperately to throw the ball exactly at your glove, and praying that I wouldn’t smack you in the face. You’d catch maybe 20% of the throws (if my aim was good). Now, you’re telling me to “mix it up”. Throw some to the left, some to the right. Some high, some low. Fly balls, ground balls, and bounce balls. And you catch most of them. You’re figuring things out. But your favorite thing to do is hit whiffle balls. You turn on the balls so fast you sometimes fall down. Always trying to hit them on the roof, or over the neighbor’s fence. Home run!!!
Crossfit: You did your first Spartan race at AT&T park, but I bet it won’t be your last. You were registered for the 1/2 mile, but ended up doing 2 laps for a full mile. Because you can’t do anything halfway. Never mind that this is designed for kids aged 9–13.
Basketball: You play basketball one afternoon each week with your buddies and Coach Ryan. You show me your crossover dribble, between the legs, two balls at once, and various other techniques you’re perfecting. We might have a point guard in the making, which is good because I wouldn’t count on growing tall enough to play any other position. I love playing 1–on-1 in the backyard, trying to force you to dribble left (you’re getting there). But knockout is your favorite of course. A quick winner and loser, immediate gratification.
Art: You’re all about sports, but have occasional obsessions with art too. Earlier this year you moved on from frogs to drawing nike swooshes. Page after page after page covered in swooshes, with a grading system to differentiate good from ok from terrible. If you succeed in that point guard basketball career, I have a pretty good idea who you’ll be sponsored by. But my favorite (besides the cover photo for this story, obviously), is the calendar you made. Twelve pieces of art, each inspired by a different artist. I love waking up to this every day on our bedroom wall.
Soccer: You have Dad’s speed (you’re welcome), but also Dad’s soccer skills (sorry). In 6-yr old soccer, that and a lot of hustle made you a constant threat to score. You were always around the ball, and at least once per game you’d take a ball to the head, or cleat to the chest, or just fall down hard. They’d stop the game, I’d rush out to check on you and ask you to take a break. You’d wipe away tears and refuse to exit the game. Not sure if you’re tough, stubborn, passionate, proud, or some combination. But I love it regardless.
Running: You ran the 5k gobble wobble and finished in 28 minutes — 5 minutes faster than Mom. After a couple days complaining about sore ankles, you started plotting to run 4 miles at the Aragon track. Never satisfied. And always pointing out how you “crushed mom.” Then in the Hillsborough Schools Fun Run 2k, you finished fast and had to wait around for the rest of the family. And of course you didn’t let us forget that either. We’ll work on that humility.
Football: You had an awaking in flag football. Last year it took you several games to pull a flag or score a touchdown. This year you were a game-breaker from the start. Watching you score was great, but watching you play safety was the best. Covering so much ground, taking the right angles, being more or less aggressive based on the game situation. Our little Earl Thomas. I guess all that time watching football and asking me questions is paying off. And like soccer, I found myself running to check on your well being after a hard hit or fall, wiping rubber pellets off you face. You sure do love your sports, even when you’re getting beat up.
Piano: You’ve been taking lessons, but you hate it — or so you say. Your actions sometimes betray you. You’d complain about practicing, but loved showing me a new song you’d learned, and even wrote some of your own. You still whine and complain about it incessantly, but you picked it up fast and now can play several songs that require two hands and span multiple octaves. I didn’t even know what an octave was until you told me. Can’t wait to see what else you can teach me.
Spring Training: You were excited about spring training, until you realized you’d miss your first little league game. And the first round of flag football playoffs. Then you really, really didn’t want to go. But we made you, and of course you had a great time (see — parents are always right!). I don’t even remember if the Giants won or lost, but I definitely remember the 2nd game when we had front-row seats along the left field line. You desperately tried to get the players to throw you a ball. “Give me a ball!” evolved into “Give me a ball please!” and finally into just “Ball me!” It looked bleak until after the game when you yelled “Ball me!” to the last Padres player walking by, who duly pulled a ball out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You definitely earned it, and I’ve never seen you so excited about anything. Thanks #99, whoever you are.
Oh yeah…and you lost your first tooth on that trip too! In the middle of the night, and somehow didn’t swallow it.
Little League: I wasn’t sure if your first little league game would ever come. Between our Spring Training trip and several rainouts, it was April 8 before you finally got to play a game (and because of our Boston trip, you’re second game wasn’t until late April). But boy did you make your arrival felt! You led the team with an .875 batting average (!!!) with some extra-base hits scattered in. And you were solid enough with the glove to play all the infield positions. You became a leader on the team, and were a great teammate. Treating everyone with respect and encouragement. And keeping your emotions in check. Winning (and losing) the right way.
Eating: You started taking “eating well” seriously, even if you didn’t quite understand it. I mentioned that eating vegetables can maybe make you taller, and that being taller has it’s benefits. That got you motivated. Sort of. Example: On Mom’s birthday she wanted pizza:
Colt: “I don’t really like pizza”
Me: “Really? since when?”
Colt: “I like Chinese. It has vegetables”
Me: “But you don’t eat the vegetables”
Colt: “I eat the beef in beef and broccoli”
Sorry bud, that doesn’t count.
Camping: We’ve been camping twice in the past year, and you’ve been right at home. Running around with the other kids, getting filthy dirty, and taking full advantage of campground food (no chocolate or graham crackers, but that leaves plenty of room for extra marshmallows). At the Baywood Dad’s trip, you found yourself immersed in a water-gun fight, but without a weapon. No matter, you just loved being involved, even if it left you wet, dirty and cold. Nothing a couple hot dogs and a seat at the fire couldn’t fix.
Video games: As a kid, I loved playing Nintendo. When I finally got the NES Classic you were as excited as I was. After watching me play a little Super Mario, you muscled in for your turn. You started with Pac Man, but quickly started experimenting with the other games. Excitebike, Punch Out, Kirby’s Adventure. But to no one’s surprise you mostly just wanted to play Tecmo Bowl. You got beat about 63–7 in your first game against the computer, but kept at it — even trying to work out which teams had the best offense and defense. You loved playing so much that Mom started bribing you with 20 minutes of video games for 60 minutes of piano practice. Hopefully your negotiating skills will improve with age.
Close Friends: You’ve built this amazing crew of buddies. You play sports together, race around the track, and of course break into spontaneous games of chaos tag. And as a huge bonus, your friends all have wonderful parents who Mom and I love to spend time with. As both a coach and your Dad, I’m so excited to watch all of you grow and evolve, hopefully for many years to come.
Far away Friends: Every year we visit Grandma in Seattle for a couple weeks in July. You and Cam always have a great time with Grandma, and this year we also got to spend time with the DeCoons who moved to Issaquah. You played baseball and kickball in the backyard, ate burgers, and got your first taste of street hockey, after which you asked if we could move to a cul-de-sac and get hockey gear. Slow down there bud, I think you have more than enough sports to keep you busy.
Selfies: You figured out how to take photos and videos with the iPad. And of course that means selfies. The iPad is on my account, so those photos and videos pop up in the photostream on my phone. Photos like this that spontaneously appear bring much needed joy and levity to a stressful day at work
Hanging Around: If you didn’t already have an overflowing bucket of sports (this fall you’re playing soccer, and basketball, and baseball!) we’d have to consider putting you in gymnastics. Or maybe just find you a parkour gym. You’re constantly seeing how high (and how fast) you can climb. Or how far you can jump. Or how long you can wedge yourself in a doorjam or between two walls. Or finding new and challenging ways to do the monkeybars. Never a dull moment.
Family first: You don’t always want to help. As often as not you make a stink about it. But you’re old enough now that when we ask you to change Clara’s diaper, or help get her dressed, or clean up messes that aren’t your own, you grudgingly do it. You’re starting to understand that the world doesn’t always revolve around you. Maybe just most of the time.
It’s been such an amazing year. So many highs, and a few lows too. But I wouldn’t trade any of it. You’re smart, funny, insanely curious, and an all-around great person. Happy birthday son.
