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