Og! Eat!

Dear Jack,

After the Red Poppy Festival yesterday, the Fords came over with their dogs, Gracie and Lincoln. You have been around the two dogs before, and I knew that you liked them a lot, but your boldness in the face of animals that stand significantly taller than you do was amazing to me.

The dogs were very thirsty after walking around the festival for an hour and a half, so I filled up the water table both for them and for you. You quickly came to the understanding that the dogs were thirsty and were desperate enough to even drink from a cup in your hand.

You kept following the dogs around with that cup, saying "Og! Og! Og!" over and over again. I found the word, which was clearly "dog" without the "d" very strange. It wasn't until the dogs left that I realized it was first time you had used the name of the animal and not the sound they make... dog, not ruff-ruff.

Even once the dogs were no longer thirsty, you continued to try to give them water until Mrs. Ford introduced the idea of giving the dogs a treat. She handed you a dog treat and then you walked over to give it to Lincoln (your favorite of the two dogs). I marveled both at your willingness to stick your little hand into that big jaw and Lincoln's gentleness in taking the tiny treat from your hand.

After each feeding, you would run back to Mrs. Ford. "Eat! Eat!" you called, "More eat! Og! Eat!" Dog treat! More treats for the dogs! I have no idea how many of those treats your would have given Lincoln had Mrs. Ford not convinced you that they were all gone after four or five.

My favorite moment, though, was when your sister was learning to give Gracie commands. Sit! she told Gracie. You thought this was a great idea. You brought a chair over for Gracie and another chair for Lincoln. Then you pointed at the chair "Acie! Sit!" "Con! Sit!" Gracie sit. Lincoln sit. We had to explain that dogs (at least big dogs like Gracie and Lincoln) don't sit in kids' chairs.

You had so much fun on your doggie play date. The nice thing is, that you have helped a friend. Mrs. Ford and Mr. Ford will be having a baby soon and when they do, the dogs are one step closer to being fully convinced that little humans are fun to be around.

Love,
Mom

Red Poppy Festival 2011

Dear Jack,

Is there anything I love more about living in this town than all of the community events?

If there is, it's the beauty of the old buildings and the Norman Rockwell feel of the downtown.

Obviously these things are not what you enjoy about small(ish) town life. But you did enjoy the bounce house quite a bit.

You also really enjoyed the new toy store.

I mean you really enjoyed it. In order to go into their play zone, you have to pay $5 per child. You had already wandered back to the play area when your dad asked, "Are we really going to pay five bucks for this?" I looked at him and looked at you and said, "How much is not tearing Jack away from all of these toys worth to you?"

Five bucks it is, then.

Your buddy Mrs. Robinson was there to play with you, too, which made the whole experience even more wonderful.

Did you enjoy the car show this year? No, you were napping at home at that time.

Did you enjoy the booths? Not really.

Did you enjoy the live music? I doubt you even noticed it.

Did you enjoy seeing our friends and playing downtown?

Yes, you did!

Love,
Mom

Jack at Day Care

Dear Jack,

How do I leave you at day care every morning? How do I walk away from this sweet face?

Some days I just don't know.

I guess that's why I sent your dad to the day care picnic. No matter how lovely the place is, I wouldn't have been able to leave you there twice in one day.

Love,
Mom

You are MY Son

Dear Jack,

There is so much about you that I just identify with. You are my son and I see so much of me in you.

You have my range of emotions... your happy is so very joyous, your sad is so very tragic, and your angry is so very explosive.

You eat the way I like to eat... carbs, carbs, carbs, and more carbs, with maybe some cheese on top.

You love your sleep... you don't fight naps, you ask for them.

You get into a thing and have to delve into it completely... from fish to ladybugs.

And lately, I have found this that you and I have in common.

In an effort to get more protein into your carb-rich diet, I have introduced peanut butter.

I know a lot of people think peanut butter is a spread for sandwiches and an ingredient in cookies.

My family, that is, my dad's family, thinks that peanut butter is a spoon-able side. Your dad thinks this is first and foremost, somewhat disgusting, and secondly, possibly something that only diabetics, insulin-resistant carb fiends, and future type II diabetics find appealing. Since my dad's family is all of those things, I cannot argue the point with him.

But I do know that eating peanut butter with a spoon is one of the best treats ever.

And apparently you do, too.

Love,
Mom

It's Hard to be Jack

Dear Jack,

Many children do not like wearing shoes. In fact, I would say that as far as shoes goes, most parents would say that their biggest problem is getting their child to keep them on.

I am sorry that I forgot that you are not most children today and expected you to take a barefoot picture.

But I do appreciate that after woefully calling for "shuice! shuice!" for a minute or two, you got over it and took at least one good picture (which I was able to splice into a good picture of your sister to get what I wanted) before retrieving your shoes and going about your business.

And once you had your shoes, you were happy as a clam and very cute.

Well, at least until it was time to leave the swings.

Life is hard when you are not quite two and your mama decides she must have red poppy pictures before nap time.

I'm sorry your morning was hard.

But I am so happy that I got the pictures I wanted.

Love,
Mom

Buying Dinner for Uncle James

Dear Jack,

We went out to dinner tonight and when we were just about finished, a young man came in with his family. He was wearing his ACUs, his army uniform, and he brought with him his parents, grandparents, and then maybe his wife or sister, as well as some other either siblings, cousins, or friends.

I don't know if that young man was on leave, home from deployment, about to be deployed, at the start of military career, or hoping to be done with it soon, but I know he is a soldier and I know his family is proud of him.

Just like our family is proud of your Uncle James and your Uncle Jonathan.

And I know that whenever we used to take Uncle James out to eat, or when we do get to go out with Uncle Jonathan, the family policy is that the serviceman never pays. Sometimes your dad pays for the meal, sometimes your Gram or your Grandpa, sometimes your Nana or your Great-Grandpa, but never, ever your uncles.

They pay enough. Your Uncle James paid the most.

So when that soldier sat down with his family, I knew that either his dad or his grandpa would be expecting to pay. In fact, there was a chance in my mind that those two patriarchs had been squabbling over who would get the honor.

But we were there and we don't get to pay for your Uncle James anymore, so we called our waitress over and made arrangements to take care of that soldier's meal.

I'm sure the waitress thought we were very patriotic, and really, we are.

But we weren't just doing it to thank that man for his service, although we were.

And we weren't just doing it because we want to show you and your sister the importance of random acts of kindness, even though we do.

We did it mostly because we miss your Uncle James and would give anything to take him out to dinner again. But we can't. So buying meals for unnamed soldiers is the next best thing. So that's what we do.

I consider it buying dinner for Uncle James, and I hope that's how you will come to see it, too.

Love,
Mom

Where Jack Likes to Be

Dear Jack,

I am starting to plan for your birthday, and I have to say, it's been a challenge to think of a place you would really like to go.

You don't like crowds, you want to be able to have complete freedom of movement, you don't like long car trips or hotel stays, you want to get messy, and you don't want to have to clean up or stop playing to leave. Ever.

There is only one place that fits all of these criteria.

It's your backyard.

I was also starting to wonder who I would even invite to your party since you really don't ask for friends by name just yet. But we had Andrew and the Hazens over this evening and while you didn't play with any of the kids in the backyard, you happily played next to Peter for quite a while and while you didn't really interact much with Andrew, other than to steal a car back from him (since obviously any car in the world is really yours), you did enjoy that Andrew occupied your sister and kept her away from your precious water table by engaging her in other tasks.

So in just over a month, I think we're going to do this again. The Hazens and Andrew, add in your grandmothers and maybe a few others, and some cake and you will have the best birthday ever.

My sweet, messy little homebody.

Love,
Mom