Two and a Half Years


Dear Little Prince,

I called you the other day as I came out of the mountains…  Well, in truth, I called the Queen but you are ever present at her side and you took control of the phone.  And, here’s the thing, you took control of the phone. You talked to me.  I asked about your day and you answered.  You asked what I was doing and I answered.  For several minutes we exchanged thoughts transformed into words in a coherent dialogue.  My heart swelled with pride: for the person you have already grown into and the person you are going to be in a month, a season, a year…

Sometimes I steal sideways glances while you whirl by me in your tornado spin of energy, both creating and destroying simultaneously as you explore the ever expanding possibilities of imaginative play with anything and everything that falls along your path.  The hot pad turned into a frisbee.  A washcloth turned into a pizza.  All things turned into trains.  And I wonder how you can possibly be the same person I used to cradle protectively against me with one arm.  And I wonder how our house will survive you.  And I wonder…

I have to thank you for allowing me to glimpse the world as you see it, as you make it, as you want it to be.  I have the benefit of my writing to create new worlds and chronicle the exploits of my imagination, but I often can’t see those worlds come to life.  When I’m playing with you, I know you can see everything and that creative certainty helps me see as well.  See and remember and believe.  I can’t fully explain how important that is to me…

So, thank you.  Thank you for your play.  Thank you for your wide-eyed wonder.  Thank you for your shenanigans and adventure.  Thank you for your trouble-making ways.  Thank you for asking “why” every two seconds.  Thank you for tearing the house apart and then helping your mom and I put it back together.  Thank you for your memory and your thirst for learning and experiencing new things.  Thank you for being you…

I love you, Kiddo,


adventure update

Dear Little Prince,

It’s been awhile since I’ve written to you, and I’m sorry about that.  I will try to do better.  I know there is nothing to forgive, since the time I might have used to put pen to paper was spent playing with you instead, but do understand the importance of recording these words too just as we record your words.

Oh my, the words.  You seem to learn five new ones every day.  Yesterday you learned “dancing.”  The day before you learned “steamy.”  And last week?  You learned a word I can’t repeat here and you have thankfully stopped parroting back to us.  By the time you read this you’ll really know it and many much worse.  That’s exciting and sad at the same time.

Anyway, the way you said those four letters it sounded like fork…  It was adorable.

You know what else is adorable?  Getting home from work in the afternoons and hearing “Daddy!” before I even see you running from the other end of the house to give me a hug.  Running.  Hugging.  Tugging on my pants to follow you back to where you were so we can play together.

Playtime is the best.  You dribbled a soccer ball from one room to the next earlier this week.  You did it on purpose too.  You’d seen me do it.  You tried it.  You did it.  It was amazing!  And then I chased you down to celebrate and you giggled as we high-fived and I tickled you.  Then we tracked down your mom, the  Queen, and we both tickle-attacked her.

You are learning at a ridiculous rate.  You help with chores, putting food in the kitties’ dishes, washing plates and filling up the dish rack, sweeping, vacuuming…  Okay, so you can’t quite get the hang of all of those yet, but you do all of them with our help, and sometimes you manage them on your own.

You are growing at ridiculous rate too.  Some meals you seem to eat more than I do… and I eat a lot.  You are our mini-garbage disposal and I fear for the grocery bills in a few years.  I fear for the clothing bills, too, as you outgrow things faster than we can buy them.  You are definitely a toddler now, and I can hardly see the baby in you at all.

I understand these are typical milestones of parenting but that doesn’t take anything away from my experience with them.  This whole adventure, while terrifying and trying at times, continues to hold moments of wonder and delight, to an extent I didn’t know was possible.  Thank you for going on this adventure with your mom and me.  Thank you for your patience as we continue to grow and feel our way through these new roles.

We are proud of you.

We love you and can’t wait to see what new discovery you make each and every day going forward.


aka: djmatticus, the jester