Letters

Dear Sophia,

I'm not so sure how long the "Sophie Bean" nickname will last, but I like it.  When you go to sleep, we wrap you up in your blanket so tightly, so you won't run your hands up into your face and wake up.  Your mom calls it a Sophie Burrito.  So I started calling you my Sophie Bean.  It's not flattering, which is why it may not last long.

I wrote you a letter last night for Christmas/New Years.  I was a little late, but not too bad.  When I got to work today, I reread the last letter I wrote you, and realized I said many of the same things in both letters.  I guess that's ok.  I am trying to say new things every time I write.

When you smile at me, ball up your fists, squish your arms up next to your face in delight, and giggle, I can't help but laugh.  You are the cutest little girl ever.  You have started to drool a lot.  We put bibs on you regularly now.  Usually lots of drooling means little teeth are coming.  It's hard to believe you could get any cuter, but I think those first two bottom teeth will do it. 

You reached out and grabbed my thumb recently.  I think it was more of an accident than a serious development, but it's coming.  I can see that you wave your hands around more.  When I pick you up, sometimes you get startled, and you inadvertently slap my cheek with your open hand and outstretched arm.  And I think you're almost there with learning how to put your hand in your mouth when nobody's around to replace your binky. 

Your deep blue eyes are so bright and intelligent, sometimes I think you're just going to burst out in full sentences any day now.  You certainly have more to say than Jonah did at your age.  I love that you start talking to me as soon as you see me.  You have a sweet little voice. 

The new experience with you, that we didn't have with Jonah, is the anticipation of knowing what's coming next and watching you to see when it happens.  When Jonah got teeth, it was Grandma Betts that saw it first.  When Jonah learned to suck his thumb, it was a heaven-sent blessing.  It was a surprise to us when Jonah grew out of his first car seat (which I think you're about to do as well).  But we get to watch you with a better idea of what's coming next.  I think we can enjoy the little milestones better that way. 

I love you, Sophie.  You've created a very special place for yourself in our lives.  You're an amazing little girl.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Jonah,

"Are you cute?"  "Yes.  I'm cute."  I guess we're OK as long as that doesn't go to your head.

You are such an amazing kid.  I got to spend the evening with you tonight, while Mama and Sophie went down to the church.  You have the perfect balance between desire to run around recklessly, and desire to snuggle with your Daddy.  I love the relationship we have.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  I hope this relationship never ends. 

We watched some of our old video clips of you when you were younger.  You've come a very long way in just two years.  I had to laugh at the clip of you pushing one of Grandma's chairs across their newly finished floor, collapsing into a momentary cry of frustration when you hit the wall.  You figuring out how to move around is one of the most interesting documentaries I've ever seen.  The psychology plays into it just as much as the physical development.  You didn't try walking on your own until you saw lots of cousins doing it all at once.  You didn't have the confidence until then.  Now you run zigzags down the hall, scrunch up your "hurry" arms, and flail your legs around if you want. 

You can also play catch with me!  I'm amazed every time I see you catch a ball that I've thrown at you.  That's some real coordination.  And you're a good throw when you want to be. 

I love that the simple things entertain you so well.  You could run laps and play catch all day long, and not be bored.  And I could watch your cute little 2-year-old run for a very long time. 

Keep it up!

Love,

Daddy