A Magical Place

Dear Jack,

While I was away from you, I went to a magical place. I think if this house ever met our backyard, some sort of cosmic event would unfold and the universe would never be the same.

Really, what I am saying is, I went to the house I would have if I didn't have your father to consider.

What's so special about this house?

Well, for one thing, you can draw on the walls.

That's right. Just pick up a piece of chalk as inspiration strikes, and draw on the wall. Or the cabinet.

And if that gets boring, pick up a piece of paper and make some new wall art.

When you are finished, you can hang it in the bathroom. Of course.

You can also juggle and play dress up any time you please because all of the things you need for either are in the middle of the living room, ready to be played with.

I know. Why don't we live in this house? Well, for one thing, being that openly creative is messy and your father, and your sister, and even you little guy, like order. It was chaotic, expressive, creative me that loved the freedom of expression. I'm not really sure how you or your sister would feel about the space, but I know for certain that just imagining it is driving your father batty.

So we live in a house of order. Where sidewalk chalk is for the sidewalk and the arts and crafts supplies have a draw that little hands cannot open and the dress up materials stay neatly in the draw in the bedroom and sadly, the bathroom walls are empty of all artwork.

But when you walk into the backyard, you see the magic in the painted fence, the pinwheels, and the whirlygigs, and the rock garden.

So I guess you get a little of both... an orderly home to live in, and a magical backyard to roam through.

And when you are older, I will take you to visit this magical home and we'll see if you love it as much as I do.

Love,
Mom

It Isn't You

Dear Jack,

This isn't you asleep on my chest.

I know. It looks like you. Aside from the pink pacifier and all. She's even wearing your favorite babyhood color: orange.

Awake, the two of you really don't look much alike. Her mouth and eyes, and even the shape of her face is so different than yours. But asleep, with the eyes closed and the pacifier in the mouth, you notice the shape of the brow and the nose, and those features are so like yours. The back of her head is also like yours... and currently has the same little bald spot on the crown where you did at this age.

It was so nice to hold her like this, like I used to hold you. Awake, she wanted her mama, but asleep, any warm soft space would do and so I would hold her asleep as much as I could.

Being around Jamie made me miss your baby time. Do you remember how we used to sit in that green chair and sleep during the day? Do you remember me wearing you in that orange Moby Wrap? Do you remember memorizing my face as I memorized yours?

I remember it all. And I miss it.

And I'm so grateful to your little cousin, letting me hold her so that I could enjoy those moments once more, this time with her.

Love,
Mom

Who's Afraid of the Big Russian Wolfhound?

Dear Jack,

This past weekend, you had your first play date. Funnily, you and your sister were the only kids there.

That's right. It was a puppy play date.

We started these with your sister and the Ford's poodle, Gracie. The goal was to help your sister become accustomed to dogs while helping Gracie become accustomed to kids. It seems to be working and Gracie and your sister are pretty good friends. This last play date, though, we added you and Lincoln. Both of you were pretty hesitant at first.

I understood your wariness... Lincoln is a Borzoi, a Russian wolfhound that stands taller than you and is somewhere around four times your weight.

The idea that Lincoln was afraid of you was a little more comical, but I understand to a dog, a toddler is a dangerously unpredictable being.

Mostly, you avoided both dogs at first, but after a while, you and Mrs. Ford settled on a ball tossing game and you became so engrossed with the ball that you forgot there were two large dogs in the room.

By the end of the visit, you were trying to hand bones to Gracie and narrowly missed throwing many balls onto Lincoln (and by "narrowly missed" I do mean "because Mrs. Ford has good reflexes").

My only complaint in all of this is that your dad is becoming more and more convinced that you and your sister will need to own a dog one day.

Why couldn't the Fords own cute pet rocks?

Love,
Mom

What's in a Shoe?

Dear Jack,

I ordered what will probably be your last two pairs of Robeez this week. Really and truly, you are ready for real shoes and have several pairs of them, but the funny thing about you is that you prefer having shoes on to being barefoot.

*Gasp*

I know, as much as we are alike, you are still so different from your mama. I kick my shoes off first chance I get; you literally cry when I try to take your shoes off.

So although I thought we were done with Robeez, I had to reevaluate when I realized you want shoes on as long as you are awake. Hard soled shoes just aren't good for little feet all day long and so you needed a soft soled shoe to change into in the evenings at least.

Choosing Robeez styles is a very time consuming process. I looked over all of the choices and finally tried to pick between these two:

Do you know why I had to buy them both?

I finally realized that I like the sailor whales because of your Uncle Jonathan and I liked the skating hippos because although Uncle James moved on to stunt bikes pretty quickly, he had a skating phase in high school, which is around when I met him.

How could I chose between your two uncles?

So I bought them both.

I hope they make your feet happy.

Love,
Mom

Did Someone Say Jack?

Dear Jack,

Everyone has given me a hard time about all of the Jack puns and literary references that I find so very fun. I keep saying I'll have to get them out of my system before you get much older.

But now I'm starting to wonder... a whole page of things from A-Z and what's your favorite?

The Jack O' Lantern.

Of course.

Love,
Mom

Do Unto Others

Dear Sydney and Jack,

I don't normally write letters to you both, but this is a special case.

I have spent a lot of time thinking of how to teach the two of you the value of love and friendship and family. I truly believe that family is what you make of it and that people don't have to be blood relations to be a family. I also know that my "family" looks nothing now like I thought it would ten years ago.

People I thought I would be friends with forever are gone from my life completely. People I thought I could count on have let me down and people I never knew cared have lifted me up. People I thought I could never forgive are so dear to me now that I am ashamed that the forgiveness took so long in coming.

I say this because I have realized that the lesson isn't that you do for the people you think are family or that you do for your closest friends, the ones who will be there for you always, but that you do what you can for whom you can when you can.

You do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

So when I heard this past Friday that my friend Mrs. Hazen had suffered a second trimester miscarriage, that she had lost her baby, I cried and cried and felt so very sad and then I gathered myself together and asked, "What would I want someone to do for me?"

So, knowing that she had planned on doing her son, Peter's third birthday party the next day, I called her back and I asked her if she would let me do the party for her. She said she would love that and then she made a list of the things she wanted for her son.

Sydney, you and your dad made the green cupcakes (since Peter loves the color green).

Your dad made the cookie cake, which was a special request of Mrs. Hazen's and he also went to the store and picked up some fresh fruit because Mrs. Hazen has this wacky idea that every kids' birthday party should include fresh fruit and when you are trying to help someone, one of the kindest things you can do is indulge their wacky notions.

I picked up balloons and streamers (green, of course) and other party goods and three pints of chocolate ice cream and went over to Mrs. Hazen's house to eat ice cream and decorate the house for the party. I also told her that if she should have to go to the hospital before her mom arrived in town, I would help with her kids.

As it turned out, that is what was needed and I took you two and the two Hazen kids to the air show with your dad and the Hazen's Cousin Clint.

All four of you played at our house during the day and (blessedly) all four of you took a nice nap. It was hard, so very hard, to be having this happy playful day with you kids knowing that my friend was in so much pain, physically and emotionally, but I look at this picture, of the Hazen kids, oblivious to the distress their mother was in and I am so glad to have done that for them and grateful for your help in distracting them.

We went over to the Hazen's house around four and had the party. Mrs. Hazen made it home from the hospital just as the party was starting, but needed some time alone, so we held the party without her. I think that was the hardest part for me... wanting to be upstairs comforting my friend and knowing that the best thing I could do for her was being outside, in the yard, taking pictures of her son's party, helping the party to move along and keeping him from ever knowing that his happy day was marred in any way.

Why am I telling you this? Because we have choices in life. We can chose to think only of ourselves and let the rest of the world worry about itself. But I don't think that's the way God meant us to live. We can also chose to rescue every stray and wear ourselves out trying to save a world that cannot be saved by any man (or woman).

I am trying to model for you that middle road. The one where you help those who need it, but set limits for yourself. There was a part of me that wanted to go out and rent a petting zoo to make this the best party ever for Peter, but I held back and bought him what his mother would have, if she had been herself. I asked you dad for help for my friend in making the cake and doing the shopping, and later in various ways on the day of the party, but I have left him to go out with his friend and play his XBox today, so he can recharge. While I was helping with Peter's party, another friend called me to ask for my help in securing a sub for her because her father had passed away. I told her I would take care of it, but what I really did was call a mutual third friend and delegated. I had already committed to the Hazens and could only handle so many emergencies in one weekend.

I was proud to be able to set that example for you this weekend. I was also a little embarrassed because so many of Mrs. Hazen's family members were so free with their praises and wanted to thank me and you could see a little wonder in their faces that your dad and I had taken care of so much.

Why would we do so much for the Hazens? Because if this were either of the two of you, and this was your birthday and I had to be in the hospital, I would want you to be able to have the day you wanted even if I couldn't.

I only did what I would have someone else do for me, and that's all I will ever ask of either of you.

Love,
Mom

I don't think this is an "air" plane...

Dear Jack,

I was so excited about the Air Show this weekend. You have been so captivated by airplanes lately and I finally found an event that was more about you than your sister.

So which of us was more disappointed by the reality of the event? I really cannot say. You just couldn't comprehend that these big things on the tarmac were the same little things you see up in the sky. So really, the air show was a bust.

The worst part was that you tried to tell us what it was you wanted. You are picking up signs a lot right now and this is your sign for "airplane."

Notice that you are not looking at that big piece of metal next to you as you say "airplane"; you are looking up at the sky where airplanes are supposed to be.

Oh, well. I tried.

Love,
Mom