Dear Eliza, 29 Months Old

I'm writing this letter from my hotel room in Austin, Texas. I'm here for SXSW. You, your Mom and Matteo are back at home hanging with Grammie, who is helping while I'm away.  She didn't need an excuse to visit as a new retiree. It's no secret that I love to travel, but traveling without you is a little less fun. It's FOR SURE easier not having to travel with all the accessories you require -- car seat, stroller, etc. -- but I simply miss the proximity to you.

I like to say "This is why I went to college" when my job provides me opportunities and privileges to see and do things I wouldn't choose or otherwise be able to afford. I see the trade-offs in getting to have these kinds of trips but not always being able to share them.  

Back on the home front, you are continuing to do well at potty training and you prance around naked or bottomless most of the day so you aren't tempted by the convenience of a pull-up.

Your language is getting better. A milestone: Amazon Alexa and Greta both understand you now. You can get Alexa to "play Moana on Spotify" and you can get Greta to sit. Command of machine and beast are necessary if we are to remain the dominant species. 

You are also awfully commanding to your parents. You know your manners but sometimes forget them, omitting the pleases and thank yous. Get those back on track. When you are really upset with a parental decision (e.g. bedtime), you default to a Mariah-Carey-high-pitch scream that is surely making me more deaf than I already am. This proves out that nurture can only stamp out so much nature in a child. I don't know where the heck you picked that behavior up. We don't reinforce it through reward, but you certainly get a reaction out of us.

I'm going to keep this letter like you, short and sweet. I can't wait to give you a big hug and smooch when I get home. Until then...

Love always, Dad 

Dear Matteo, 8 Months Old

This month has been all about physical skills and expressions. You are getting the hang of using your hands and fingers, and the assisted squats in the bouncer are starting to pay off. 

You can sit up on your own and play independently for long stretches. That's a huge relief for those of us trying to find precious minutes of freedom for meal prep, screen time, using the bathroom, showers, etc.

You grab everything in sight. When I'm holding you and trying to feed myself -- always a bad combination --  I have to keep my own food as far away from you as possible to the point that I can barely reach it. Plates, cups, utensils, napkins... you name it, you grab it. We're way too smart to try and use a tablecloth. You've long enjoyed grabbing a chunk of your sister's hair and she's started to keep her distance. Greta learned recently to keep her fur out of your range, too. The other day, you were sitting up and as she walked by you grabbed a chunk of fur, causing her to to scamper, and you didn't let go. She dragged you over as a result, a little like a waterskier hanging onto the rope a little too long after a fall and skidding along the water at speed. You cried. You got over it. Such is life. 

Your pincher grasp and eye-hand coordination are excellent and working well together so you can feed yourself. Like with Eliza, we are practicing "baby-led weaning," which is a fancy way of saying we give you soft foods instead of baby foods. It's fun to watch you shove food in your mouth, sometimes missing the target, and learn how to chew. You have no problem grabbing foods like tofu, smashed peas, blueberries and pasta. You have developed a bit of a temper if you're out of food in front of you. You immediately shout and complain until there's something back within your pincher grasp. You have quite the high standard for food service. 

You have gained some silly, spastic behaviors. You shake your head side-to-side rapidly and giggle with the dizziness. You like to slam your hands in front of you in the high chair. You can roll-over in succession across the room like a movie star dodging a spray of enemy fire. Sometimes when you're on your back, you thrust your hips up and hump the air rapidly. Don't be that kind of movie star. 

You think Eliza is the funniest person in the world. Your Mom used to be your favorite, but when your sister is nearby you discard her as little more than a convenient milk source and household Uber. You gaze at Eliza with a grin and whenever she laughs, you laugh back and the two of you giggle at each other for minutes at a time, gasping for breath between cackles.

These are the times that your Mom and I will always remember: seeing you two interact and make each other laugh. I hope you always find your sister that funny. When you're older and don't find your Mom entertaining or care for my dad jokes, you still have to call us. 

Love always, Dad

Dear Eliza, 28 Months Old

We are in full potty training mode. I never thought I would talk so much about #1 and #2 in my life. Most of our family conversations revolve about this topic. I don't know why, but a lot of these questions come around mealtime: Are you still dry? Do you need to use the potty? When was the last time you used the potty? Do you need to use the potty again? 

Potty, potty, potty. 

It's working though. You are going days without an accident and almost exclusively wear pull-ups. We have tried "big kid underwear" a few times with mixed results. The first time you went #2 in the potty we made a huge deal out of it. We will probably be less excited when you graduate from college, get married, or have your own child. The celebration was at level 11. We have been incentivizing you successfully with mini M&Ms after a good deed, but for the #2 we took you to Safeway to get a balloon as you requested. I'll never forget the look on the young man assisting us as he held the baby blue balloon and had to bear witness and stand in frame for a full on-camera interview about why you were getting the balloon from him. He was like "WTF." We were like "#2 FTW!" 

YOU WERE STOKED. So were your Mom and I. We have been dirty diaper factory workers these past months between the production of you and your brother. The union wants to reduce their hours.

You continue to entertain me with all of your mannerisms. You baby-talk to Matteo the way that Mom and I do. Your voice is already so tiny it's baby-baby talk. When I come home from work you give me a big hug and small-chat with me, asking how my day was and explaining yours. It's so darn cute. On the other end, you're incredibly demanding for any bedtime routine. You ask to be covered up. You ask for chocolate milk. You ask to turn on your blue light. When I say "ask," I mean you scream these demands at us from your room. Such a little dictator. 

The last couple weeks we have gone to the indoor swimming pool at People's Park. You are a strong, confident swimmer (with a lifejacket). I honestly love it because you're really inclined to hang on me in the water. 

I continue to take in all of these events -- the celebratory potty, the after-work small-talk, the swim dates -- and enjoy them in the moment. It's easy to be distracted or apathetic out of exhaustion, but I only need to look at Matteo to see how fast your little life has moved along. It's sometimes challenging to stay present and attentive while making sure not to miss or set-up the next one around the corner. You keep us on our toes, kiddo.

Love always, Dad

Dear Matteo, 7 Months Old

You are becoming a little foodie!

You've got both bottom-center teeth now and are putting them to work -- including occasionally biting your Mom while nursing. Not cool. 

We are getting you started on simple foods and baby foods. You like to suck on carrots and cucumbers. I'm sure the cold veggies help your sore gums. You sometimes eat avocados through a mesh spoon. It's a little weird but it works. Today we tried a berries-and-oats puree, but you broke out in light hives. You've been getting some light rashes after eating soft foods, so you conclusively have some food sensitivities or allergies like your cousin Harry. Although the light skin breakouts occur, it doesn't stop your enthusiasm for trying foods. Each time you see the baby spoon come out you reach out intensely and try and grab the spoon to expedite the food travel. It's a cute little behavior.

You are getting more sturdy and can sit up on your own for minutes at a time (eventually falling to a side). You seem awfully proud of yourself when you're upright. You are also practicing standing with some help and in your play saucer. Typically you are most happy at these tasks when you are at least shirtless, if not only wearing a diaper. I guess someone has to be the nudist in the family. 

We are keeping an eye on the flat spot on the back of your head, and Mom has you in physical therapy at Mary Bridge Children's Hospital once a week to help with your neck strength. You may have favored turning your head to the left side too much these past months, or even in utero, so you sort of have a stiff neck. I'm sure the exercises will help, and we won't hesitate to get you a corrective helmet if that means it helps round out your head shape. We should have a better idea about all that over the next couple of months. 

Through all of these growth milestones you have had one big smile on your face. In contrast, I look back at your sister at this age and realize she was quite stoic. If you're not sleeping or eating, you're grinning. Strangers light up when they see you because you're always smiling at them first. It makes everyone's day, especially mine! There's a cliche aspect of masculinity not to smile to appear tough. Personally, I think that's horseshit. A smiley approach has paid off for me way more often than acting tough. You're off to a great start, little homey. 

Love always, Dad

Dear Eliza, 27 Months Old

I used to have a lot of time to write these letters at night, but now you like to stay up as late as I do so I'm cramming this one. 

I'm surprised you didn't want to go to sleep earlier considering how much you jumped around all evening. We had pillows thrown across the floor in the living room as poor safety precautions while you practiced jumping off the couch onto your feet. You typically like to jump and land on your butt on whatever bed or cushion you're on, so it's good practice to save your tailbone. We went swimming at the YMCA last weekend and I had to save you from multiple jumps where you would have cracked the back of your head because you didn't jump out far enough. This is one instance where it's better to practice jumping on land to get better at sea.

You've had quite the athletic development overall this past month. Just today you surprised me when you tossed a ball to yourself in the air and caught it. You continue to be a good runner and now you can gallop at stride. You also learned this past week how to push yourself on a scooter and practically look like you're skateboarding. Remind me later to tell you who Tony Hawk was and the fantastic video game made in his likeness. You also continue to help my exercise and lay on my back when I do push-ups. We made it to 40 this month. 

Your Mom and I are constantly impressed with how smart you are. You can almost consistently, flawlessly count to 20. You can spell your name and your Mom taught you with the same jingle as B-I-N-G-O. Your articulation is more clear and you started using articles (a, the) in your sentences. You express more tone and nuance in your expressions and communications. You love to color and draw and are cranking out modern art daily. 

What's not improving, as I alluded earlier, is your sleep cycle. You want to go to bed later and complain for near an hour from your crib. It doesn't help that Matteo is sleeping in the room with you now until we get the new bathroom finished and get your bedroom set up. We need the baby to sleep! You tend to make high maintenance requests when you complain, asking for hot chocolate or a specific snack or water or back rubs or to get covered up by the blanket you just kicked off or to "sleep in Mommy's bed." Sometimes you ask for all of them in a ritualistic order to get the pleasure of watching us march back and forth. 

In the words of a great American poet, "please go the f*ck to sleep."

Oh, and then when you wake up in the morning you make the same series of requests. Despite all that, I'm still happy to see you in the morning. Until then...

Love, Dad