Dear Matteo, Six Months Old

Happy New Year, little man. 2017 was a tough year for a lot of people who validly cite Donald Trump's presidency, natural disasters, and acts of violence among the reasons. Fortunately we were unaffected by a lot of the negatives, and your arrival into the world simply outshined anything else. I'll look back at 2017 as a great year with wonderful memories of you. 

Of course, I get to share a lot of these memories as they happen. You spent your first Christmas between Indiana and Washington. A couple of weeks after our Hawaii trip we loaded you and your sister back on a plane to visit with your Mom's side of the family. You were pure entertainment. Everyone just loved how smiley you are and how much you bounce around. We left Indiana on Christmas Eve, and had a long travel day, dodging incoming snow storms at Fort Wayne and our connection in Chicago. You were a total champ on the plane, even when we sat on the tarmac for two hours in Chicago waiting on plane fixes and weather delays. 

We woke up to a white Christmas, which is rare in Washington and totally magical. We showed you and your sister how Santa ate some cookies and reindeer ate carrots. I am still working on the narrative for how Santa came through the electric fireplace. You opened a couple presents and then we went on a stroll around the snowy neighborhood in Eliza's new wagon. It was a relaxed, perfect day. 

At six months old, you are developing in all the fun ways that entertain the hell out of me. You roll over whenever you can. You have a way of really swinging your chunky legs to roll quickly. Back and forth, back and forth. We have to line up pillows so you don't go the wrong direction and bump your head. You can't quite sit up on your own, but you want to and complain when you're on your back for too long. That may also be your way of saying, "Help my flat head get round and get my ass upright," because the back of your head is a little flat. We're working on that and are trying to avoid a corrective helmet in your immediate future. We'll see what the doctor says at your next check-up. 

You don't have teeth yet but you're trying to break them in. You're like a little cannibal because whenever you see hands, especially knuckles, you lunge forward to devour them and gnaw your teeth wildly. It's really funny to watch. I'd say something about a knuckle sandwich but that's an obvious dad joke. You're interested in trying food, grasping at any food we put in front of you -- most often our own when we try and eat with you on lap. We've let you suck on a few bland vegetables because your Mom says we shouldn't get you hooked on sweets. So for now it's been green beans and cucumbers. You act like you've never eaten before, which I guess is technically true. Just wait until you get to taste the really good stuff. 

Finally, you're a thumb sucker. It's the best. I know thumb sucking can become a problem later, but for now it's so darn cute. You get a pass for the next six months on that one. 

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 26 Months Old

We came back from your second Hawaiian vacation (lucky duck!) a few days ago. We made the brilliant decision to fly in and out of Bellingham instead of Seattle. Or, it was brilliant departing that way.

We stayed at your Aunt Nina and Uncle Jeff's house the night before in Bellingham, so we had a nice visit with them before an easy drive to the airport in the morning. Coming back, we didn't arrive until 11:30 p.m. Factor in the two-hour drive home and that made for a late night!

How did you kids do on the flights? Well, Matteo is at an easy age. You, not so much, but you did great. You sat in your car seat on the plane, which I think made you a lot more comfortable. I rented a couple movies so you got to watch two movies each way, plus some "Elmo's World" episodes. We basically zombied you with screen time, and that worked for everyone involved.

One of my favorite moments from the trip was watching you "swim" with a lifejacket. We stayed at a first-floor condo with a lanai (Hawaiian for "small porch") that walked right out to a shared community pool. You were awfully brave the first day we were there, wanting to constantly jump into the pool, making our hearts jump a little. We didn't bring any flotation devices (parent fail) so went straight to a dive shop to get a lifejacket for you. Once we got you in that, you were golden! You never got the idea of how to use your arms so you would basically flutter your feet to stay balanced and direct your drifting. You had a big cheesy smile enjoying your swimming freedom that we reflected back. 

Your language continues to improve, and you picked up more words than I did Hawaiian slang. This has been the month of using pronouns and possessive pronouns. The English language is tough in this way. If we each have a cup in front of us, I have mine and you have yours, but you would say yours is "mine." Or you will just say "Eliza cup, Daddy cup." That works, too. You got the hang of "I," such as "I did it!" whenever you would successfully exit the swimming pool via steps. You were also quite emphatic if you thought Matteo took something that was yours, as in, "No Matteo. That's my..." We're working on that sharing concept. 

You'll soon enough have a command of English and I recommend you don't stop there. I have never been able to pick up a second language despite taking a lot of classes in high school and college. When we were in Italy, someone told us, "the baby learns its mother's tongue." That's another way of saying that you're going to pick up what you most often hear: English. Your Mom and I will need to think about getting you in some second language environments quickly. I don't have a preference for what the language is, could be Mandarin, but I want to make sure you develop and exercise the cognitive muscle I don't have. Later in life, you'll have the chance to  study abroad. Do it. My biggest regret in college was not studying abroad. 

In the meantime, we'll keep dragging you kids to corners of the world for sprints at consuming foreign culture and language. And you'll watch a lot more movies on airplanes. 

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, Five Months Old

You are one lucky little dude. 

Here you are, five months old, lounging in Maui. You beat the rest of us at taking your first Hawaiian vacation. Your sister was seven months old for her first trip. I'd have to check with my parents, but I think I was 10 or so on my first trip. Your Mom took her trip when she was 31. 

You have been great with all the travel. You were easy on me and Mom on the plane ride here and will hopefully be the same on the way back. I'm already worked enough at the airports coordinating and dragging all the extra luggage you kids require. By the end of it I feel like I hit max reps at the gym.

You have been super cuddly with your Mom lately, especially in the morning. The way the rooms worked out here at the condo, you get to share the bed with Mom, and Eliza sleeps in a pack 'n play next to the bed. That pushes me out to the second bedroom, which is definitely not the way things were before you kids came along! 

You have loved all of the pool time. You can't quite sit up yet on your own, but you try and bounce around like crazy with whoever is holding you. You're a bucking bronco! We alternate between sitting you by the pool and letting you sleep in the shade on a beach chair. You got your first taste of the ocean the other day and got to put your feet in the water, pedaling with excitement.

You have been finding more of your voice on this trip, crowing like a rooster to entertain yourself and fussing whenever we strap you in a stroller or car seat. You want to be free! You don't actually cry much but blow bubbles and wheeze as if in Lamaze class, trying to control your breath. It's funny to watch you get worked up and I appreciate that you don't go from zero to scream and give us a chance to settle you down before you erupt.

Though it's not very wintry here, we have still gotten into the Maui holiday spirit. We took a holiday train ride to "Santa's Depot" and later today we're going to take Santa photos at Wailea with the Chaffee boys. You are lucky to see Santa so many times before Christmas! We'll see him one more time for photos with your cousin Harry. 

We are very fortunate to have the means to take trips like these, so don't ever take them for granted. Travel and vacations (not always the same) are a total privilege and, in my mind, total necessities. There's the "get away and reset" aspect of a vacation. There's also the "see how other people live" aspect as a reminder of the choices we have to live whatever lifestyle we choose, and not just the one we create out of habit. Every day has a series of choices, and you can choose to make the same you made yesterday or make today something different. That doesn't make every day a potential vacation, but it can be more interesting. That's the reminder vacations give me.

Unfortunately you won't remember this vacation like I will. Don't worry, we'll take many more together. 

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 25 Months Old

Just when I feel like I'm getting the hang of this parenting thing, you hit another stage and I hit the success reset button. 

You are a walking, talking, running, jumping, defiant, jubilant two-year-old.

You like to have long-winded, mumbly conversations -- not unlike me.

When I get up in the morning, you tell me about how your day should be. You insert multiple names and actions in your sentences, such as "Mommy go to zoo, Daddy go to zoo, Matteo go to zoo. See elephant, see tiger, see seals. No see monkeys." You got it. When I get home from work (you still think I work on an airplane), you talk about your day and I quiz you about what happened at pre-school. Instead of recounting your day, you request watching "Moana" or "Sing" or at least listening to those soundtracks.

A lot of our conversations are about trading, especially at mealtime.

"Will you eat one more bite?" I ask. You turn your head away with a pout.

"Do you want to watch a movie tonight?" I rebut. You lean forward with mouth open and gladly start chewing.

Your motor skills are improving. We practiced sign language from your Mom's second grade instruction book and you loved it. You can now start to isolate fingers to make signs, and you have an easier time mimicking gestures. We got you a large rubber ball and when we play catch you can really catch it. You still have a heck of a throwing arm, like your Mom.

You got your first haircut! Your hair was growing really long in the back, so we needed to even things out and keep your look on point. We went to Rudy's in Proctor. To keep the peace, we took advantage of your passion for "Elmo's World" and let you hold Mom's phone to watch the show the entire haircut. You didn't complain at all or cry, and your hair turned out great. I only cried once. 

Halloween was a couple weeks ago, and you went trick or treating for the first time dressed as a beautiful butterfly, matching your Mom. Matteo and I dressed as chefs. We went over to Bridger and Bennett's neighborhood where the Halloween scene was insane with hundreds of kids out in costume. It was the American Dream. You were initially scared by all those people and some intense houses, but managed to find the courage, and a hand to hold, to walk up and ask for candy. You went to about a dozen houses and with each one found that it was worth the fear to get the prize. That dynamic can be applied to life in general kiddo.

Out in the big wide world there's something more scary and disturbing happening. In the media, a lot of women are saying that famous, powerful men took advantage of them. This is serious stuff.

You might first encounter kids at school who aren't nice to you when they actually really like you. Maybe a boy will chase you at recess and you won't like it. Or maybe you will. Young kids are constantly learning how to express themselves and their feelings appropriately, and that takes years to get right. We already see kids -- yourself included -- at pre-school acting funny as you learn how to interact. Some people become adults without figuring it out, or are wired in a way where they can't, or they make big-deal mistakes that hurt people. It will be important that we -- you, me and your Mom -- have really open conversation about when people around you make you feel uncomfortable and we talk about that right away. In most cases, it will be OK. You'll have those relationships where you don't like people as much as they like you, and vice-versa, but we'll want to make sure it's not more intense than that. Your brother won't be immune to those scenarios, and you'll have a big sister role in being a support for him, too.

Thank God this parenting thing is one big, constant progression. I'm enjoying getting better at our multi-character conversations and horse-trading and the relatively simplicity of that. Let's go watch "Moana" for the 16th time this month. 

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, Four Months Old

This is a first. You're helping me write a letter. You're sitting on my lap, chewing on your thumb and trying to get comfortable. Perhaps this is your creative process. 

You can't quite sit up on your own... whoa, there you go. You almost landed your face on the keyboard just now. You still have a bobblehead like balance, leaning to and fro and eventually finding center. You also like to act as if you're on an invisible elliptical machine, pedaling your hands and feet in the air like you're targeting a calories per hour rate. That's making the typing a little slow on my end. 

I'm feeling a lot better than just hours before. This has been an exceptionally challenging last 24 hours as your Mom and I caught the same stomach bug at the same time! We're used to you spitting up all the time. Your Mom and I, not so much.

The stomach bug came out of nowhere. I was up in Bellevue yesterday morning for a conference and your Mom was home with you and Eliza, like usual. She sent me a text with all the sickness emojis mid-morning, so I turned around to head home. On the hour-long drive, I realized I wasn't feeling well either and actually took surface streets the last 10 miles so I could pull over if needed. I barely made it into the house before tossing my cookies. I'm down about 10 lbs. over the last day. The only upside is I can start to see my abdomen definition again. 

Usually, when one parent is sick you can rely on the other, but in this case we were pretty much screwed, trading trips to the bathroom. We did what every parent does and turned on the TV to maintain the peace. Eliza watched a record 12 hours of TV and movies yesterday. If she blames us for any academic failures in the future, she can start there.

Side note: You got bored and fussy watching me type, so I handed you off to Mom.

At your age, you don't care much about screens so you were much easier to manage though our sickness. You have been bothered by a head cold the last couple days and it makes me sad to hear your little cough trying, unsuccessfully, to get the gunk out. 

I can't remember being as sick as I have this last year. I hear that I should expect to be sick until you kids are in high school, so this must be the start of it. 

Your Nonno, a renown germophobe, used to pester about washing hands and could sometimes be seen bleaching door handles. I totally get it now. Your Mom was spraying diluted bleach all over the house earlier today. 

My advice to you, young man, is to keep your body and mind healthy when you get older. Wash your hands. Don't pick you nose or touch your eyes. Stay home when you're sick and rest. Floss your damn teeth (when they come in eventually). Make time to exercise and stay in shape. You're off to a good start with the invisible elliptical. Do yoga. Meditate and/or pray. Find quiet time. Make time for sleeping and midday naps -- you're off to a great start with those.

Take care of yourself and you will be more able to take care of others. Your Mom and I are getting our strength and appetites back now, so we get to spend more energy taking care of you. 

Love, Dad