Letters

Oh my heavens.  Time sneaks away, and all of the sudden you're so much more grown up than before.  This last year has gone by quickly, of course, but it also seems so long ago that you turned two.  Part of that is right after your birthday, Sophie was born.  It has been very satisfying to see that your milestones and progress haven't been eclipsed by watching Sophie grow up.  You are still such an amazing child.  You can do and say so many more things than last year.  For me, your biggest milestone has been your grasp of conceptual thinking.  Your imagination shows up when you ride your bike across the deck to the "Coffa-setta" (Conference Center), and when you come down the hall with your arms held out like you're holding a baby, and tell Mama you're putting the baby in her crib so she can go to sleep.  Your reasoning is evident when you say "I'm going to run over to Grandma's.  There are no cars coming to bump me, so I can just run over," or, "The sun is not gone away.  I don't want to go to bed."  You are still stubborn, but you're starting to be OK with the concept of, "When you finish your cereal, you can do X," or, "When you finish your milk, you can have juice."  

Tantrums seem to be your latest fetish.  You're working your way through the phase where you think yelling and throwing things will get you what you want.  Or, when you're doing something you know you shouldn't, you think it's effective to tell us, "Go away!  Don't see me!"  This is a very frustrating time for both you and your parents, but I think we're all learning.  

You're turning in to a great older brother.  I think your jealousy is wearing off, and you're finding that Sophie is kind of fun to play with.  She absolutely adores you.  When she's fussing in her crib because nobody has come to get her out yet, she lights up and giggles when you come in the room.  She loves to see you, follow you around, and play with whatever you're playing with.  You're very eager to tell us when Sophie's awake, and all the things she's doing.  I'm excited to see you grow up together.  

I've spent some time this last week watching movie clips of you a year ago, and I'm astounded at how different you are now.  These things just sneak up on me.  Last year, you were still getting the hang of talking.  You thought your name was "Nah-nee."  My favorite video of that is I where I say "Can you say Jo?"  You say, "Jo."  "Nah?"  "Nah."  "Jonah?"  "Nah-nee!"  And then you giggle like crazy.  When you turned two you could walk pretty well, but it still took some concentration.  You liked to wear other people's shoes.  You liked to hear the sound of your feet slapping down the hallway, or especially crossing bridges at the zoo or elsewhere.  Now you're more interested in whether or not you have rocks in your sandals (courtesy of your Daddy's slow yard project...), and you want to run just about everywhere.

Again, at all your major milestones, I worry that I'm not going to be a good enough Daddy to bring you up as a well-adjusted, happy individual.  It's hard to pull against all the currents in today's society that want to sweep you into laziness, entitlement, and general lack of productivity and creativity.  I feel a strong desire to pull you as hard as I can away from that kind of thinking, but I get nervous with the realization that you'll be kicking and screaming the whole way, just like any normal kid.  How much do I try to protect you from, and how much do I let go and let you learn the hard way?  I really don't think anyone can answer those questions for me, except you and I together.  I figure we'll be OK, as long as you can keep your wry sense of humor and say to me, as you did when I tried to throw your ball into the seat of Sophie's saucer and missed, "Try again, Daddy."

Love,

Daddy

Who would have thought that after learning to crawl such a short time ago, you'd already be pulling yourself up and walking with your hippo push toy?  You're quite good at it, too.  Jonah would lean forward, let the hippo start rolling, and then sort of scramble to keep up with it and not fall on his face.  You stand upright, push it forward a little, and then walk up to it, totally in control.  You don't balance on your own yet, but you also don't require much support to stay upright.  I have a feeling real walking is not far away.  And I also have a feeling you being totally in control of your hippo is a sign of things to come.  You will have orchestrated the Moon Family Takeover by the time you're 3, I'm sure.  We'll all be marching to your orders.

But, who knows if you'll have any more teeth by that time.  We keep waiting, and thinking teeth will soon appear, but they keep not showing up.  We're not heartbroken, because you have an absolutely stunning two-tooth grin, but it's interesting to watch how long it takes for you to get more teeth. 

We have developed a little ritual in our house, that begins sometime in the night when you lose whatever hair control methods you had when you went to bed, and your hair starts its daily quest for wild freedom.  When you wake up, you let out a couple small cries, which is usually plenty to catch the attention of your adoring Daddy (no matter how groggy he may be).  When I come in to get you, you stand up in your crib, hair all over your face, and start bouncing up and down and shrieking in excitement.  I love that moment.  Your hair in your face and beaming grin and bubbling excitement are so darn cute!  I pick you up, in all your chubby, soft, snuggly cuteness, grab a diaper and head back in to see Mama.  When you see her, you start a whimper, twist yourself around, and generally do about everything you can to get out of my arms and over to your Mama.  Mama's got the food, so Daddy doesn't even rate on your list anymore.  Except I know that's not true.  I lay down on the bed behind you, and you have to turn around every so often while you're eating to see that I'm still there.  When you're done eating, I get to change your diaper, which involves lots of tickling on my part, and laughing on your part.  You're silly.  Then you head off exploring the house.

You've started standing up at the window sill and watching whatever Jonah is watching.  Sometimes that includes me going to and coming from work.  It's immensely satisfying to see the two of you standing at the window together, grinning at me. 

Jonah's starting into potty training, which he really does NOT like, and it makes me really appreciate how easy you are to care for.  You have your own issues with not wanting to drink from sippies, and sometimes not calming down enough to fall asleep (screams galore), but generally you're a very happy and easy-going child.  We were waiting for the little hellion that would make up for how good Jonah was.  Little did we know we already had a budding hellion, with no encouragement from you.  But I'm sure he'll get over it, and hopefully we'll have learned enough to help you avoid the worst of it when your time comes.

Last night I spent a little time in your room watching you as you slept.  You have so many family resemblances.  I see your Mama in you, and your Jensen genes from Grandma Betts, and I also see my mother in you.  Some of the expressions you make remind me of her and your aunt Melinda.  You bring them all together so beautifully.  You are so very charming. 

I love you, little Sophie.  You are growing up so fast, as all kids do, but you are still my precious little girl, and always will be.

Love,

Daddy