AC Capehart capehart

Dear Sam, I’m writing this to you on my 38th birthday. This morning when I got you up out of your crib, you asked, “What day is today?” I replied, “Monday.” Then you said, “It’s Mommy’s birthday! Happy Birthday, Mommy!” And you gave me a hug. Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. A few hours later, we were running errands on foot and you wanted me to carry you, and I was already lugging two bags of groceries, and you wouldn’t wear your sun hat, and you kept telling me to take mine off, and you cried and complained for the last two blocks.

Dear Sammy, For your newsletter describing your 30th month of life, I’ve been collecting phrases that we’ve heard around the house. These are the ones that make your Dad and me grin, or gasp, or sometimes grimace. But in each case, we look at each other and mouth “did she just say that?” Here you go. Soundbites from a 2½ year-old girl: “Mommies don’t go to work. Daddies do.” “I’m not a big girl yet.

Dear Sam, I’m not sure where to start for this month. I suppose all months are continuations of the previous, but that seems especially true this month. Probably because it took me getting half way through this month before finally abdicating last month’s newsletter to your mother. Regardless, this month was full of growth and change for you. Mom indicates that you’ve been “speaking in paragraphs” for some time now. I’m not really sure how or when that happened, but you do string together related sentences.

Dear Sammy, Dad and I are a few weeks late with this newsletter. You (and the people we share this letter with) will have to forgive us: your 28th month was a difficult one"not because of you, but because this past month saw the death of a longtime family member: our beloved kitty Camus. I’m going to start there. He died near the end of the month, but his death has colored the entire month.

Dear Sam, Well, Chrissum time is over. Alas, by the end you were saying “Christmas” about as often as you said Crissum. Your little approximations of words are cute and fleeting. Already I miss getting to hear the babble of your baby talk and wish I’d found a way to record more of it. This month has begun a real inquisitive phase for you. You have a hard time being adjacent to a conversation without saying something like “What’s mommy and daddy talking about?

“It’s Crissum Time!” Dear Sam, Before you came into our lives, I knew, and almost certainly used, the phrase “childlike delight,” but I really don’t think I had the visceral sense of the meaning of that phrase until you showed up to demonstrate it for me. You love looking at people’s Christmas lights (Crissum lights) — including our own. You’ve even interrupted whatever play was going on at the time to simply call out, in case anyone forgot, that “It’s Crissum time!

Dear Sam, When I put you down for your afternoon nap just now, you sang along to your bedtime song “Samantha, fais dodo.” I was trying not to smile too hard, because, you know… it’s nap time and you have a hard enough time as it is settling down to rest. When we finished the song, you exclaimed “Sammy did it!” After I left the room, you reprised the song, and then added a few rounds of “Frère Jacques,” followed by a rousing rendition of “Pop Goes the Weasel.

Dear Sam, Well, it’s not quite month 25 yet, but this is certainly the latest I’ve been for a while. It’s going to be hard not to talk about where you are now, but to restrict it to where you were then. Even though then and now are only a few weeks apart! I guess let’s start with linguistic development. Impressive as usual. You have a large nursery rhyme book that you enjoy.

Dear Sam, It’s been a quarter of a year since I last wrote your newsletter! Thank goodness Mom stepped up to the plate. She also saved my butt this month as I have a “notes” email from her containing what could be considered “talking points” for this newsletter. Two thing really stand out for me in particular this month though: Jumping and Skipping. You really enjoy both of them. You also enjoy requesting them of me.

Dear Sammy, Daddy was going to write your letter this month, but since a) he’s sick, and b) he’s working for SIGGRAPH at San Diego this week, and c) you’re giving me a nice long nap this afternoon, I decided that I would start it. So, hi Sammy! Happy 22 months old! You’re two months away from two years old. Technically. In practical terms, you’re right smack dab in the middle of the Terrible Two’s.