I’m never sure if my imaginary doppleganger is “Gita” or “Gata” in your mind. These are the names of your “other parents” that you first conjured months ago but have increasingly talked about. They sound eerily familiar to your Mom and me, but with some elements of dream-like fiction. For example, you sometimes reference how they live in an all-blue house, have a swimming pool or ice skating rink (depending on the season, naturally) and own exotic animals. I’ve heard of imaginary friends but have never imaginary parents. You always take things a step further.
I don’t know what Gita and Gata got you for Christmas but your Mom and I hooked you up. In a very Star Wars-themed holiday season, you and Eliza each got two Grogu (Baby Yoda) dolls along with baby beds that Aunt Courtney made. Greta also got her own Grogu chew toy. The highlights from Santa included a Paw Patrol tower (I always get these confused with PJ Masks) and more than a dozen monster trucks. Santa got your sister a (second-hand) Barbie Dream House. The unexpected highlight were robotic baby finger monkeys that are quite interactive with more than 60 different sounds and expressions. You and Eliza like to play caretakers of animals so the monkeys were a real hit. You’ve expressed that you’d like to be an animal doctor one day, and that’d suit you well being so fearless but also caring. You just need to stop petting Greta in the eyes. You’re not going to pass a veternarian school getting pleasure out of poking animals in the eyes. C’mon dude.
As is always the case, Christmas toys kept you totally entertained for about 36 hours and then we were back to the usual swing of life restricted by the pandemic. You and Eliza have become best friends by combination of force and actually liking each other. You play chase, act like kittens and brutally wrestle most of the day. All action, some harmony but little peace. You have also gotten into some games of hide and seek. Unfortunately you’ve chosen to hide in my closet shelves — causing them to crash — as well as in the downstairs bathtub — causing the curtain to nearly come off the ceilng. It wouldn’t be toddler fun without household casualties.
You have so much energy and can barely wind it down. Most kids have a body clock that shuts down on a usual daily schedule and usual bedtime but you refuse to end the day most of the week, often going to bed at 9 p.m. and totally exhausting us the final hours of the day. This eventually catches up to you, as it did yesterday when you went to bed early at 6:45 p.m. and didn’t wake up until 7:30 am. this morning. That’s your cycle, not enough sleep, resulting big swings between excitement and crankiness six days a week. On the seventh day, you rest. I suppose you are creating your own little world and just doing it by the book.
Love, Dad