Dear Matteo, 30 Months Old

I’m glad you are feeling better. You spent most of the Christmas week with a fever that knocked you down but not entirely out. You adapted to the fever in a funny way, stripping down to your pull-up or completely naked and standing in front of a cadet heater in the dining area. I guess that was your way of regulating your body temperature.

Of course, opening presents and new toys were the best medicine. The adrenaline of it all healed you in the heat of the moment. You now have three Buzz Lightyear and two Woody action figures and often take inventory to know where they are at all times. You were also excited to receive a monster truck and toy tool set. You were less enthusiastic about the robotic bunny (matching your sister’s more popular robotic elephant) and Pogo bungee stick (not sure how else to explain that one). Parent lesson learned: Stick to obvious boy stuff.

We saw a lot of family as well. We video chatted with Grammie, Popa, Uncle Ty, Aunt Amber and your cousins Abby and Mason in Indiana a couple of times. You felt better by the time your cousins Winnie and Harry visited for the weekend after Christmas. You all ran circles around our house with new toys, requiring minimal parent intervention. Thanks for that Christmas present.

That didn’t minimize the “Hey Dad” salvos. You say “Hey Dad” five to seven times as a conversation initiation. It’s a way that you get my attention and buy time to form your words. On days I’m not in the office, you probably say “Hey Dad” 200-300 times. Add that to a multiple of “Hey Moms.” That math works out to you talking to us nearly all waking hours, which is 100% true. You have a lot to say. You command attention. You’re a natural-born leader.

Now you have a lifetime ahead to learn what many leaders struggle with: listening. We’ve been working on that, too. Your Mom often asks that you look at her in the eyes when you’re talking or listening to make sure you’re fully engaged and not just making or taking in noise. Sometimes you raise a Jack Nicholson-eye brow at us or furrow your brows depending on your mood.

Another way you express leadership is by grabbing my hand and pulling me toward where you want you want to play. If I don’t budge you really throw your weight into it. I rather prefer your “kind voice” when you say, “Hey Dad, do you want to play ball with me?” With that approach, you get an enthusiastic “yes” every time.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 50 Months Old

We are in the throes of the holidays, just a couple weeks away from Christmas.

Our house has a family record number of Christmas lights this year. After being denied by a couple professional services to get lights on the pitch of our roof, validating my own refusal, your Mom finally found a handyman who was willing and she took care of most of the rest except the pitch of the garage and our porch, which I handled before vacation in Kauai.

Coming off vacation, we went to a garden nursery in Proctor and picked out a tree, making the most of our raised living room ceilings with an 8-footer, before the tree topper. Unfortunately we didn’t have the right tree stand so our tree fell over twice now — first flooding the surrounding floor with water and later crushing the ornaments we hung after wrongfully believing we resolved the tree stand stability. You did a good job helping us clean up after each catastrophe. I don’t want to add up the cost of those ornaments and the state-of-the-art, burly tree stand I bought this morning at Home Depot. Christmas is always an expensive endeavor and sometimes for unplanned reasons like that.

This year you’re asking Santa for a robotic elephant thing and a wand to help you fly, which we addressed last letter. I think you’ll be happy with Christmas so long as you continue to work on your patience with Matteo. Overall you’ve done a good job but every-so-often you take his bait and take a swing at him. You adjust OK after an occasional “time out,” which is more effective at giving you some space as it is a punishment. We rarely had an issue while on vacation, and you were incredibly independent. You had ready friends in the Chaffee twins and were constantly in the water — backyard pool or ocean. Who needs the attention of parents or can be bothered by a little brother with all that excitement and entertainment?

One of my Christmas wishes is that we spend a little more time skiing. Until we can afford a dream cabin, it’s a long day and long drive but skiing is a sport I’ve come to love and enjoy sharing with you. We’ve skied one day — opening day — at Crystal Mountain so far in this unimpressive winter. After some hesitation and nervousness you found your groove alongside your Mom and were really fun to watch. Skiing is the way to get through these (usually) wet Northwest winters, and I think you’ll be glad to have learned skiing at a young age and not in your mid-20s like me. Everything is harder to start as an adult, which is why we’re throwing everything at you now. I have no doubt in my mind you can handle all of it, including flying down the hill.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 29 Months Old

i’m sitting poolside at our rental house in Kauai while you’re taking an afternoon nap in the bedroom.

We’re wrapping up a week of island time with the extended Chaffee family. Your Mom and I have hitched along for Chaffee vacations between Whistler and Hawaii a couple times now, so we are all on the same program. This is already your second time in Hawaii. Lucky guy! We tend to go this first week of December as a way to celebrate your Mom’s birthday. Pools, beaches, snorkeling, shaved ice: That’s how you celebrate.

No longer a reliant, predictable infant, you’ve made your presence known this trip with a loud voice and strong opinion of what you want to do. Usually that involves chasing lizards or roosters, both plentiful on this small island. You’ve also invented a new call-and-response game with your sister where you say/sing “I love you” in a high-pitched voice that sounds more like “A wuv woo” and she replies howling like a dog. That’s kept the rental van rides entertaining.

You’ve walked out the front door a few times without telling anyone, catching us by surprise and causing the closest adult to jet out after you. At least you’re not heading out the backdoor unannounced. That’s where the pool is. We’ve been diligent about making sure the locks are set at all times.

You’ve spent a ton of time in the pool and have gotten a lot more confident with the hours. You’ve been good about keeping your lifejacket on, which is a relief to us. As you’ve been trying to keep up with the big kids, you tried a cannonball jump yesterday, which involved running up to the pool, dropping down on your butt at the edge and scooting into the pool. That gave us a good laugh.

All that pool time and a couple hours on the beach each day can really zap your energy, which is half the point of being here — to try and wear you kids out. We’re usually only half successful and we’re worn out before you are! Today we spent a couple hours at the beach and that did the trick to get this nap kicking. But you’ve spent enough time down today and it’s time to wake you up. Let’s jump back in the pool.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 49 Months

One day, you will fly.

You keep telling me so. It must be true.

I’m not sure where your obsession with flying came from, but it’s consistent. You don’t talk about flying in a plane like a pilot. You want to fly like a bird with wings and magic like Tinkerbell.

Your hopefulness about the prospect of flying comes and goes. Optimism was in the air this morning, and you drew a picture of yourself with wings and a crown. When you presented me the art you said, “This is what I’ll look like when I’m older and can fly.” You also told me you’ll dye your hair red when you’re older to look like Ariel from the Little Mermaid. We agreed that we can revisit that idea when you’re a teenager and no earlier. I should also note this is the moment in history when Disney+ launched, influencing your thinking, and I will gladly pay Disney for all the digital babysitting time for years to come.

Sometimes pessimism and disappointment appear, and you whine about how much you want to fly with fear it won’t happen. We don’t really see people fly when they’re not on TV, so I can understand the concern.

Here’s what I like about your dream to fly: it’s a big idea. Sometimes big ideas happen, sometimes they don’t. But they surely push you toward something bigger and more rewarding than would have happened without the pursuit of the idea.

So I say aim big, keep figuring out how to fly. Take a big leap and big risk to make it happen.

If you fall, I promise to catch you and we’ll try again.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 28 Months

Hey there, little man. You sure are trying to act tough these days.

You demand independence and have to do everything yourself. Opening food wrappers, washing hands, buckling the car seat straps, feeding your beta fish Rhubarb, etc. At the instance one of us tries to help, you sound the alarm of a high pitched “No!” and proceed the task with a furrowed brow, ever more determined to do it on your own.

Unfortunately the one task you won’t do by yourself is clean up the aftermath left behind you. We’ll work on that.

You can bring a sky-high intensity to tasks as you try and keep up with Eliza, who has the unfair age advantage of 20 months. This shows up when you want to put on shoes or zip a jacket, which requires finer motor skills. Sometimes that intensity manifests in a textbook “Terrible Twos” tantrum, especially around nap or bed time.

You are reasonable about some things, like writing and coloring where you just enjoy having the pen in your hand. You somehow hold a pen perfectly between first and second fingers with thumb helping to balance the instrument. We need to get you to focus on keeping the pen on paper. Your penmanship won’t fly on the couch cushions again.

You care deeply about what you wear and are good at picking out clothes for the day and pajamas at night, which is helpful. You most prefer to be in just a pull-up or in the nude with a cozy blanket wrapped around you like a cape for that next-to-skin warmth. It’s a Captain Underpants look.

You also seem to pick a favorite parent for the day, following one of us around trying to play, cuddle or keep up conversation. “Um, Mom…” or “Um, Dada…” is how most of those conversations start or end. For all the independence you seek to show off how you can take care of yourself, you still seek out a lot of affection. And that’s just fine.

One of those secrets in life: balance. Go hard at what you’re trying to accomplish, but also go hard at chilling out.

Love, Dad