Letters

Wow, Jonah, you've started preschool. It's a weird feeling having my own kid in school. We won't have you at home all the time anymore. And you'll be learning a lot of new things from all sorts of people. Of course you'll be learning good things from your teachers, and being around other kids your age will teach you a lot. But there will also be not-so-good things that you bring home from the school environment. It will be interesting to try to guide you through the academic and social parts of life that are just starting for you now. It's just a whole new world. I think you'll like it, but you also need to be careful.

You've started to be a lot more responsible for things lately. You will do everything to use the potty by yourself, although you still want your Mama or I to stand in the bathroom with you. When we ask you to, you will clean up your toys readily, which is a big help to us. You remember all the steps of your normal routines, and you will remind us when we forget one or two.

Along with the responsibility, you are still a pretty stubborn boy. If we give you enough warning about the way things will be, you're generally ok with it. But if you come up with your own idea, like having a treat before you go to sleep, or having a treat before you use the potty, or having a treat pretty much any time you want one, we usually tell you no, and you don't like that one bit. You still like to yell, and you whine a lot. But a lot of the time when we point it out, you stop. Even if you're stubborn, you're still pretty well behaved. That's amazing to me.

Just this past week, your Primary teacher, Brother Spencer, passed away. That's been a difficult thing for us and the rest of the ward to handle. You seem to take it pretty well when we tell you he's gone to be with Heavenly Father, and at times like this I'm kind of glad you're so young. Now you've had two people fairly close to you pass away. When "Grandpa" Del Bigler died, there were lots of flashing lights, a fire truck, and an ambulance. You remember those the most. I don't know what you'll remember of this, other than having a new teacher. But when you read this letter later, I want you to know that your Mama and I worried about how this would affect you, and we worried a lot about Sister Spencer. It's going to be very hard for her to heal from this.

Next week is your first Primary program in church. You've been given one line to speak, and I'm pretty sure you know it well. When your turn comes around, you're supposed to say, "My Daddy helps me." Today when we asked you about how the practice went, you told us your line, and then added, "and Mama doesn't." We cracked up over that. If you say that in church next week, we'll never let you live it down.

Your Mama and I love you very much. I'm excited for what you'll learn in preschool, and I love that you get to take part in the Primary program for the next several years. When these big milestones come around, I wonder how the past 4 years could have gone so fast. I'm not sad about how much you've grown and how fast you're still growing. But I do wish you could be little a while longer. I love you.

Love,

Daddy

Ever since Jonah's birthday, I've been looking forward to yours. It seems I'm always caught off guard by the big milestone dates, but at least I have forewarning for your birthdays. I'm also always saying how amazed I am at how much you've grown. And this is no exception. Even just since Jonah's birthday, you've changed quite a bit. I can't believe the grown-up, social girl you've become.

We moved you from your crib to the toddler bed this month. It took you all of one day to figure out that was where you were supposed to sleep. Staying on the bed all through the night is a different matter, but you definitely know where your bed is and what it's for. Since the change, it seems like we have to get out the camera almost every night and take a picture of the odd position you've gotten yourself into to go to sleep. Just last night I went into your room to check on you, and you were lying on the floor with your head almost entirely under the bed. I don't know how you got there, or how you thought that was comfortable, but it sure made me laugh. And I was nervous picking you up to put you back in bed. I was afraid that when I touched you you'd jerk and bonk your head. But all went well. I love that I can say to you, "It's time for bed," and you'll toddle down the hall and climb in bed by yourself. And even if you do wake up a bit too early for your parents' tastes, I still love waking up to your little squeal.

Another heart-stealing moment came yesterday when I got up a bit later than usual because of a morning dentist appointment. I had just finished using the bathroom, brushing my hair and shaving, and turned off the light to come out. It was about 6:30, and still quite dark. I always turn off the light before opening the door, because your bedroom door is right there and I don't want to wake you up. So I opened the bathroom door after turning off the light, and heard the cutest little "Daddy!" come out of the darkness. I love you beyond what I'm capable of writing, and when I hear you say, "Daddy!" with such a light in your eyes and your voice, I just want to pick you up and hug you and snuggle you like crazy.

You really have grown, even when compared to just a month ago. You are such a big girl now. You have very little baby fat left, and the clothes you wear give you a more mature look too. And my favorite, you're starting to talk more. It's still coming slowly, but you'll try to imitate us sometimes, and you've learned several words that you use regularly.

Mama said a little while ago that she thinks two is the perfect age. I have to agree with her so far. You like to play games with me, snuggle me, climb on me, run everywhere you go, and you're just so cheerful. I love this stage. I know it won't last, especially if you've inherited any of your parents' stubborn and opinionated natures, but I really do love seeing your personality emerge.

You will always be my precious little girl. Remember that I love you.

Love,

Daddy