Byron's first year

Wow! You were strong and you grew so fast! By age of 6 months you were the same size as Cari, your cousin, who was a year older. By 9 months you were taking your first steps. You had beautiful complexion and big brown eyes and long lashes. We were the typical first time parents and constantly played with you. Your dad use to roll you down the hallway in your walker. You would burst out in laughter with your dimples showing. At one point, you would pretend you were a dog and would crawl after a ball we would toss for you. Needless to say, you were very entertaining:)
Your first birthday landed on the weekend I was going to Kingsville for the regional track meet. All the track girls loved you and were delighted to help celebrate your 1st birthday. That summer your dad built a large sandbox in the backyard. Tiffany and Jeana would come over daily to play with you. We spent the summer visiting the Poes in Hamilton, Mamaw and Terry in Anson, and the Hayes' in the valley. Mamaw had a large tire that she had filled with sand that was one of your favorite places to play. At the Poes, you would jump on their trampoline and ride their big wheels. PaPa and CeCe had a pool where they lived and you were a fish. You loved the water and you were never afraid. We went to South Padre Island and let you play in the sand. You were as brown as a berry by the end of summer.
This was the summer, Derek and Hillary came running into Mamaw's house saying, "Byron is cussing!!!!" Much to my suprise, we all jumped up and ran outside. There my baby sat with a small shovel in his hand saying, "F--k it. F--k it." I was in shock! I assured my mother that I didn't cuss and he must have heard if from his dad!!! Well, later that afternoon we headed to Abilene to get a little shopping in. At first I had Byron strapped to my hand with a new gadget that was suppose to keep your child close to you so you wouldn't lose them. That contraption stretched clear across the store and no one could get around us nor could I get Byron. It was a disaster. Holding hands works a lot better. As we were getting ready to leave, I let go of your hand so you could walk with Derek. You took off running down the middle of the mall yelling, 'F--k it. F--k it!" I promise I don't know where you heard that, but you sure did enjoy yelling it.