Dear Matteo, 50 Months Old

You’re finding your voice and style of command and recently testing a lot of multisyllabic words. You like to lead your conversations with “remember” and “actually.”

”Dad, remember, you have to read me a Star Wars book so I can sleep.”

“Remember Dad, you have to get me some water to drink now.”

“Actually I was thinking we should play monster tag.”

“Actually I’m feeling sort of tired.”

Upon seeing anything impressive you comment, “That’s incredible!”

I’m having fun listening to your language development and witnessing your fearlessness to blurt out new big word combinations. I occasionally try to insert some novice Italian when we talk, and you’ll give me a “si” or “grazie.” I’ll call that a win.

I have my fingers crossed one of my children has a grasp for a second language and can break my inability to speak close to intermediate Italian after so many starts and stops. To that point, I just searched online to learn that the Italian verb “to remember” is ricordare. Of course, you have to conjugate that. “Actually” in Italian is veramente. Let’s try using those too.

You’ll learn more than just language this year as you start pre-kindergaren next week at Curious by Nature, where Eliza attended. You get to enjoy all the fun and mud of a year-round outdoor school. You can always use fresh air and plenty of space to run, so you’ll get that three days a week at this new school. I can tell you’re ready to make new friends and push a little more into writing, counting and other developmental activities that you’re willing to try as often as you see Eliza do them. That’s the joy of being the younger sibling: always someone to look up to and chase.

Actually, we’re the ones chasing you most of the time. Remember?

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 70 Months Old

Dim sunlight through construction paper shades. Scarred gym hardwood floors. Generic stiff folding chairs. Yellow frosted cupcakes and sugar cookies on the fold out table. The general sensiblities of a church auditorium at secular Rosedale Hall.

This was the scene for your first dance recital. The first of many to come, I’m sure.

On a warm August morning, your Mom, Matteo and I attended the capstone event for your Disney ballet camp. Your class walked out behind teachers, found your painter’s tape spots on the floor and awaited the track from “Tangled.” The teachers flanked the room, only slightly out of sight from the parent audience.

Once the music started, the class moved in a slightly coordinated wave mimicking the choreography of the dancing teachers.

You were in the corner of the room opposite us (bad seat selection on our part), but found us with your gaze. You appeared small but also well prepared with your hair pulled back in two buns and pink leotard and skirt matching pink ballet shoes. You danced our direction with poise and confidence and aware of each movement you were making next. It was 90 seconds of sheer delight for artist and audience.

I am biased but have to say that you crushed that routine and the teachers said as much after the show. They gave you a congratulatory rose and encouraged us to sign you up for a next session with an older age group. You wore a deserved halo of pride the following hour while scarfing down a cupcake and leaving yellow frosting where you earlier wore kid lipstick.

You are often happeist and always calmest, zen-like, when you are creating some kind of art be it music, dance and certainly drawing. Keep that in mind when you’re feeling stuck or challenged: go back to art.

Selfishly, I hope you stick to a little more dance. The events are fun. I absolutely despised them as a kid, attending your Aunt Nina’s hours-long dance recitals. Maybe Matteo will feel the same eventually (he liked this event) but that’s the difference between being a young brother and a dad: tolerance versus support.

I’m always here to support your art!

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 49 Months Old

My name is Dad.

That’s the refrain I’ve had to use relentlessly these past weeks. Since visiting Aunt Nina’s house and hearing her call me “Pal,” you’ve repeated it over and over in every address.

“Hey Pal, can you play with me?”

“Hey Pal. Pal. I want to watch a show.”

“I want a popsicle, Pal.”

I correct you with “My name is Dad” and at least you’re willing to insert the synonym so we can get on with our activity. Or a popsicle.

As mentioned, we went to Aunt Nina’s house in Bellingham to meet your new cousin Lennon and getting all of the baby cuddles and coos. You were good with the obligatory time holding Lennon and taking a photo and were otherwise running around with Harry in your underwear and fists full of action figures.

You’re not the only one running around. Your old man has gotten after it these past weeks, with underwear and many more coverage layers. The day after our trip to Bellingham I jumped in the car with Uncle Scott and drove down to climb Mt. Adams. We didn’t sleep and hiked and climbed 13,000 feet of elevation change over 16.5 miles. We made the roundtrip in 22 hours. You may or may not decide to climb Adams in a day based upon this report, but you can at least look back and see that I was still going big in in my late 30s!

I have one more objective ahead later this week. I’ll circumnavigate Fox Island by kayak, about 12 nautical miles. We’ve had a great time getting on all four of our boats this summer, and I opted for this challenge to help support fundraising for Obliteride and Fred Hutch. As you know, you’re Grammie has had a couple bouts with lung cancer, so the least I can do is help fight cancer and have a little fun doing it.

I’m flirting with how much more I can push my body, clearly. Pal still has something to prove.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 69 Months Old

We just came back from a great week in Lake Chelan.

Your Mom and I snuck up lake to Stehekin for a night and got to explore that wonderful time capsule of a town. No phone or internet. Decades-old expired tabs on the couple dozen vehicles we saw. There’s not much there but tourists, PCT backpackers and concessioners catering to both. We loved it and we’ll take you there soon to see the bakery, garden, orchard and waterfalls for yourself. Mom would like to go as soon as this fall.

Back in “busy” Chelan, we got plenty of boat and pool time in. I preferred the lake, which was crystal clear and warm enough for extended swim and float sessions. You had a tough time around the water for good stretches of the week that were mostly based in attitude and made for some challenging parenting moments. It stemmed from you and Matteo somehow managing to cut your heels on the condo stairs. Band-Aids seemed to make everything better until you decided the water would make it hurt again. Matteo did not share this view, proved the theory wrong and hence spent a lot more time splashing around. Alternatively, you expressed your concern and water hesitency with a whiny pitch tuned perfectly, uniquely to agitate your parents. Despite calm reminders that our job is to keep you safe, and occassionally infuriorating attempts to get you to stop whining and start swimming, you resisted. That is, until you saw something exciting, got into the water and forgot about your hesitency until hours later.

The scenario is a perfect example of what I’ve come to understand and accept at this stage of parenting: the joys and pains of a very young person getting a grasp of the expanding world around them. Sometimes that grasp is flawed to hilarious outcomes. For example, Grandma Vicki asked you what I do for work. You said I shop for a job — because you know I work at REI and whenever we actually go to the store, I shop. All that computer time at home 40+ hours didn’t bring you to a different conclusion. Your grasp of your heel “boo boo” and water contact led you elsewhere but eventually back into the water.

Your Mom would say I have the same meandering logic, so age won’t help you all that much. I think we’re OK the way we are. We always get to same result that our loved ones told us about hours or days earlier.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 48 Months Old

Happy birthday, 4-year-old!

You’ve obviously been excited for this day to come and can now enjoy the short, annual window when you are just one year under Eliza in age identification.

We’ve got an exciting red, white and blue birthday ahead (of course, preceding Fourth of July) with some monster truck elements at your request. We started off the morning building a fort and playing “horsey” at the downstairs couch. That horsey game is one where I build small “stables” out of cushions and you and Eliza pretend to be horses while I feed you goldfish. Later in the day, we’ll head to Bella Bella Beach and hopefully with a new yellow kayak just for you, which is one of your birthday presents currently en route to our local Home Depot. We’ve also got cupcakes in all sorts of flavors that we’ll surround with monster trucks decor. We’ll reserve some of the goods for your birthday party with friends in a couple days.

Of course, the big gift this year is the week-long company of Uncle Ty, Aunt Amber and cousins Abby and Mason. Desite the huge age gap, you’re finding all sorts of ways to play and hang out. Your Mom procured a free basketball hoop that has become a main attraction. Uncle Ty and Mom teamed up for a game against Abby and Mason last night, and your Mom was a baller with a game winning shot.

You’re a big four-year-old with a big personality and big potential. You’re using bigger language, saying phrases like, “That’s incredible!” You’re super tall and seem to keep pace with Eliza at her growth spurts. You’ve got confidence to make new friends at any occassion and are a true alpha — willing and wanting to lead any decision at any time with any company. What to eat? You want to decide. What to play next? You want to decide. If anything, your growth is going to be less in confidence and more in compromise. The difference between being an alpha and a leader isn’t making the decision, but bringing people along. My job is to help you be that awesome leader that you are so naturally becoming. Best job ever.

Love always,
Dad