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