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