I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise that a reporter would have a blog. Nor that “Santa Al” would make a blog-worthy impression. Still, it’s a bit of a trip to run across. OK, I didn’t really “run across” it — he forwarded it to me. But there you go. A reporter got caught up in my dad’s “alternate reality” field. Maybe that’s why I’ve been into virtual worlds for so long; I’m just trying to recreate my childhood.
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?” If we short change you on the answer by keeping it too simple “We’re talking about feelings, Sam!” then you have an immediate follow up question: “What’s mommy and daddy talking about feelings about?” Of course usually by then we’re both distracted from our original conversation as well as unsure how to rephrase our entire communication to each other in terms that a 2 year old could follow.
Sam: I met a blue jay once at my house in California. He sat in my seat.
Dad: He sat in your car seat?
Sam: No, I sat in my car seat. He sat next to me. And a birdie sat next to me.
Dad: Isn’t a blue jay a type of bird?
Sam: And the blue jay said “Wow.”
Dad: Wow?
Sam: “WOW! [pause] There’s some trees out there!”
I was trying to get Sam down for her nap today. She was tired enough, but is still a bit cranky as she attempts to get over a tummy bug. I asked which pajamas she wanted, and she had decided “polka dots” (which have feet in them.) So, to put those on we took her socks off. She decided she wanted to keep her socks on so asked for “monkies” which don’t have feet. So, we switched, and put her socks back on. Then she said, “socks off!” By this time, I was getting a little frustrated and wondering if it was simply a delay tactic, so I told her that if the socks came off this time, they were staying off. She confirmed that she wanted the socks off, then said. “I switched minds.“
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.” When you wake up, you’ll pick up right where you left off. This is the soundtrack of our lives, and of your 25th month: your sweet little voice belting out nursery rhymes.
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. And it’s not just that you enjoy the pictures, or enjoy when Mom or I read it to you, but you now read it to yourself. OK, you still don’t actually read it, but you recite it to yourself. You love the ones toward the beginning, especially “Hickory, Dickory, Dock”, or as you say it [Higgy Diggy Dock]. But the sheer number of them that you know reasonably well astounds us. Your other favorite is “Pop goes the weasel” or as you call it [ah ahwouna cobba bens] (all around the cobbler’s bench.) I have no doubt that that’s one of your favorites because sometimes, I’ll set you on my knee, and bounce you mildly all through the rhyme until we get to the POP at which point I lift you high into the air.
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steam train at<br />2 years old
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Wow. I don’t know what to say. Two years. The changes day to day, subtle, but occasionally exciting. The changes from month to month, certainly noteworthy as indicated by the monthly newsletters — yes, I owe you another one today! The changes year to year, astonishing. We did this past weekend what has become a birthday tradition — a trip to Tilden park in Berkeley where we went to the little farm, the carousel and the steam train. It was great, and it seemed like you had a lot of fun. At least when we asked you, you said you were having fun, and who would know better than you!?
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I made you a cake this year. Not the prettiest cake in the world. Or even the prettiest cake on the block. But made entirely from scratch, and with love in my heart for you.
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Happy Birthday, sweetheart!
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Love,<br /> Dad
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Cake!
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This quote came through email recently in the office:
“You know what it’s like. You’re chatting to your robot friend whilst skydiving from a floating marshmallow castle when you realise you’re late for work.”
The broader email was about the launch of Vodafone in Second Life. 🙂
Dad: “Sammy, do you know who loves you?”
Sam: “Yes.”
Dad: “Who loves you?”
Sam: “Daddy?”
Dad: “That’s right! And do you know who else loves you?”
Sam: “Mommy?”
Dad: “Yay! That’s right Sam, Mommy loves you too. Do you love anybody?
Sam: “Yes.”
Dad: “Who do you love?”
Sam:”Books.”