Guys and Dolls

Dear Jack,

A while back, my friend Summer had this whole blog post using the exact same pun about guys and dolls. Her post was more about which kind of doll to buy for her son, but it got me thinking, even before you were born: would I want my son to have a doll?

It was so easy to decide to give your sister cars and trucks and tools. Girls can have boyish things these days with little to no social repercussions. I would even argue that there is an entire counter-culture movement where have a "boyish" little girl is a good thing. I know that your dad and I value your sister's toughness and physical nature. We appreciate that she likes to be outside and doesn't mind being dirty. We have actually outlawed the Disney Princesses and the message of girl-waiting-to-be-rescued that they bring with them. Mostly, though, we are proud of all of the skills she is picking up and how many of them are useful skills, gender-roles aside. Cooking, cleaning, washing a car, using a hammer are all skills that everyone should know.

For you, though, would I have the same philosophies? Would I, in a southern culture that ridicules the softer side of men and thinks that men acting like women are weak, be strong enough to raise a son in touch with his feminine side?

It turns out that I am. I love your boyishness. Already I can see that you are a much different kind of person than your sister. But when it comes to some things, I want them to be the same. She got her first doll for her first Christmas, and so did you. Right now, all you want to do is nom on him, and maybe that will be all he's good for to you, but I wanted you to have the chance to carry around a precious baby and love on him like I love on you. Maybe, like so many of my southern friends have said, it's only little girls who have that natural instinct to play "mommy," but if that be the case, I wanted to be something you chose within yourself, not something I denied you the chance to express.

Love,
Mom

Don't Blink

Dear Jack,

It seems like you are developing new skills daily right now. Today it was clapping.

What will tomorrow bring, I wonder?

Love,
Mom

It Might Just Work

Dear Jack,

For the last year or so, your dad and I have been saying that you and your sister will be sharing a room, at least for a while.

Except when we say it, we say it like this: "The kids are going to share a room." [ha ha ha]

That last little bit of laughter is all in our heads, but we both readily admit to it. See, we didn't really care one way or another and knew that you wouldn't be in any room but ours for the first few months anyway, so we just didn't bother making any real decision. Your sister's room already had a crib and a twin bed, so we moved her to the twin bed and called it your room, too.

The trick, of course, would be to get the two of you to sleep in the same room at the same time. That's where the laughter came in. It seemed like it would be such a trick to get two little people to sleep without the one waking the other. How could that not be a joke?

Yet, today, for the very first time, we pulled it off. You fell asleep in your crib in your room while your sister was chattering away at her stuffed animals and then she fell asleep and there you both were. Asleep in your room. At the same time.

For the very first time, the laughter melted away and your dad and I thought this might just work.

The kids are going to share a room.

Love,
Mom

Not so Fast

Dear Jack,

Your physicality amazes me. A month ago, you didn't even know how to sit yourself up without help and now you are crawling everywhere, sit up, lay down, and even pull up to a standing position at will.

I have also noticed that once you learn a new skill, it seems like you can't be bothered with the old ones any more. Now that you can stand, for example, no more sitting for you. You pull up on your toys and stand there, with one hand on the toy for balance and play for twenty minutes or so until your core muscles and legs just won't stand anymore.

It's cute and admirable, but I'm afraid it means walking will be just around the corner.

Slow down, sweet boy.

I'm still getting used to not finding you right where I left you.

Love,
Mom



P.S. Normally I hate the whole "and then we were better parents with our second child" nonsense, but I do think you should thank your sister for demonstrating beyond a shadow of a doubt for us that once a baby can pull up, crib mattresses should be lowered. No tumbling over the rail for you. Until you can climb better, anyway.

Merry Christmas

Dear Jack,

Your first Christmas was pretty awesome, I thought. You got some great gifts, of course, but you also spent a lot of time with your family... grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course your dad and sister and me. You also learned a new trick: pulling yourself to a standing position, which you thought was pretty neat. And you are now officially fully mobile. You can crawl from one end of a room to the other with no problem. Which means you got to play with all of your new Christmas toys, and chew on the wrapping paper we left way over there, and started a scuffle with your sister when you made a play for one of her toys.

As for me, my favorite part was snuggling up next to you all night and waking up every so often to watch you sleep. Somehow I doubt that will ever get old.

So, Merry Christmas, son.

Love,
Mom

Not Your Parents

Dear Jack,

These are not your parents. I know that over the course of the last month, you have spent a lot of time around them... something like twelve days and ten nights, to be precise. I know you have slept cuddled up between them and that they spoil you like crazy. I know they solved both your sinus infection and your diaper rash and that they don't let you fuss for more than a second without trying to fix things for you. But they aren't your parents.

This is also not your parent. I know she got up with you at four in the morning many many mornings this month. I know she lets you grab her hair just because you like to. I know she taught you how to eat solid food. I know she rode a carousel with you, got a motion sickness headache and everything just to share the experience with you. But she is not your parent.

Once again, not your parent. Yes, he held you while wearing his favorite t-shirt and you spat up all over it, and then he held you again, after it was clean, and you spat up all over it again and he didn't hold it against you. He does run out to the car to get anything you need and loves to make you laugh. But he is not your parent.

I am telling you all of this because lately you have seemed just a little bit confused. When your Uncle James died, your dad and I had to focus on getting through that crisis, on helping out your grandparents and your Aunt Rachel and cousin Will. We had to do a lot of things that were hard and we weren't always at our best. So to be the best parents we could be for you during that time, we had to decide to let you stay with Gonzalez's. There were four of them and they were able to spend all of their time and attention caring for you. It was a much, much, much better experience for you than being with your own stressed out parents would have been.

So that's why when your Aunt Dani brought you up to the funeral home to see me and I reach for you and you turned back to her, I knew I had chosen well. You see, for this last month, you felt that cared for and that loved.

Now, though, things are getting back to normal and you have your very own parents back.

But we'll still be seeing a lot of your Aunt Dani, Uncle Mark, Lillia, and Myles. And honestly, I think they are just as confused as you are because they still act like you might be their little boy.

And I love that about them. And I know you do, too.

Love,
Mom

The Best Medicine

Dear Jack,

I want you to know how much you have done for your grandma in the last few weeks. Even though you are a very little baby still, you were such a big help.

You see, when people lose a life that is dear to them, they like to have reminders of the preciousness of life, of the goodness of God's grace, and the promise of a future.

They also need a little joy.


Babies tend to provide all of that in one very adorable package.

I am so glad you were here to be that baby for your grandmother. It was nice to know that even in her grief, you could bring a smile to her face.

Babies really are, as she says, the best medicine.

Love,
Mom