Dear Matteo, 31 Months Old

Are you familiar with a “trust fall”?

It’s an exercise in camaraderie, falling blindly backwards and trusting that a partner will catch you. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, but jumping forward off couches, stairs, chairs or any other sources of height and toward an unsuspecting parental target. We often struggle to catch a limb and prevent injury.

Last week, you took a real leap of faith from the stairwell. I was at the bottom of it, communicating with your sister upstairs, behind you. Though you were directly in front of me, I didn’t expect the jump and didn’t react quickly enough to the blur of nudity flying at me. You bounced squarely off the center of my chest and nailed the floor. You looked up at me sad about the “owie” and disappointed by my lack of reflex. I think I looked back at you in shock like “WTF was that?” and “How did you expect me to make that catch?”

We then practiced counting off a jump to give your next victim a chance at making a save.

That scenario is a pretty good example of who you are at this stage: Naked and unafraid.

You’re mostly naked because you are potty trained. Hooray! Your Mom and I took a long weekend trip to Park City and my mom, Grandma Vicki, took care of you and Eliza. You were on the cusp of potty training before we left and Grandma got the job done. To ensure you keep the momentum, we keep you naked or at least bottomless and you seem to make it to the bathroom whenever nature calls. The nudity is a little cruel in the middle of winter, but all is fair in love and potty training.

You’re into all the “boy stuff” right now like wrestling, trucks and drinking beer. Kidding. We don’t let you drink beer. But you can bring me one from the fridge. Thank you.

You’re also into puzzles and have a real vision for seeing how the pieces fit. We are working on a 200-piece puzzle for ages 6+ and you’re getting pieces to fit as quickly as your Mom and me. We started you on some extra-large, 25-piece floor puzzles and you memorized them after a week so we moved you up to the smaller-piece table puzzles. You are crushing it. You celebrate every time you can get a piece to fit. You seem less impressed when the puzzle is complete. I get it. The small wins can be more important than completing the big job.

Life will throw you some puzzles and you’re building the skill set and patience to manage through them. Mom and I will keep getting you bigger puzzles. too.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 51 Months Old

We finally got our first snow of the winter in the lowlands. It wasn’t much, just a dusting and enough to play in for a half hour before the green of the grass reappeared. The winter has been off to a slow start. That’s climate change for you. I hoped we’d ski at least twice as much by now. We’ve had storms in the mountains the past week, so I’m sure this upcoming MLK holiday weekend will yield some good ski days so you can get more practice in!

Your Mom is unimpressed by the snow and has suggested we should live some place that gets real snow. I’ve reacted by going on a mountain cabin hunt online. That’s a next goal for our family: the second home. That’s a real perk but one that we can share with friends and family and get some financial kickback via the advent of home-sharing (renting) services like VRBO and Airbnb. This sharing economy is a big deal right now and will probably be standard fare or perhaps archaic by the time you read this. Back to the point, a place we can go to for sure snow to escape our otherwise rainy winter closer at sea level is the big idea.

I’m not sure you’re as driven by skiing as I am, given you only show about 10 percent the excitement you show for dance classes. Your Mom just signed you up for your first class and according to her “over-excitement” would be an understatement for your enthusiasm. Your Mom said that if she signed you up for these classes, you would also have to sign up for a sport. You replied that dance is a sport. Checkmate. Well played. Aunt Nina would be proud.

Because of these snow dustings, I’ve being going in late to work and have had a chance to take you to school. We always listen to Maggie Rogers at your request. You came home from school with a new word, “cock.” As in someone called you a cock and explained that “it’s the name for a boy chicken.” While I appreciate the accuracy of the definition, I don’t think it tracks with the usual alternate definition and sentiment. To think we’re paying to send you to a private school and you’re getting this kind of language exposure in pre-K! Actually, it’s exactly what I expect. In my own private school experience I found that the privileged kids were always ahead the curve on language and vices. Wealth affords access, good and bad.

Hopefully your Mom and I can provide you a comfortable upbringing with easy access to snow, maybe a mountain cabin, and infinite dance classes. That’s going to be a privileged way to live and my hope is that you decide to be one of the good kids. I bet you’ll make the right call.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 30 Months Old

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

Dear Eliza, 50 Months Old

We are in the throes of the holidays, just a couple weeks away from Christmas.

Our house has a family record number of Christmas lights this year. After being denied by a couple professional services to get lights on the pitch of our roof, validating my own refusal, your Mom finally found a handyman who was willing and she took care of most of the rest except the pitch of the garage and our porch, which I handled before vacation in Kauai.

Coming off vacation, we went to a garden nursery in Proctor and picked out a tree, making the most of our raised living room ceilings with an 8-footer, before the tree topper. Unfortunately we didn’t have the right tree stand so our tree fell over twice now — first flooding the surrounding floor with water and later crushing the ornaments we hung after wrongfully believing we resolved the tree stand stability. You did a good job helping us clean up after each catastrophe. I don’t want to add up the cost of those ornaments and the state-of-the-art, burly tree stand I bought this morning at Home Depot. Christmas is always an expensive endeavor and sometimes for unplanned reasons like that.

This year you’re asking Santa for a robotic elephant thing and a wand to help you fly, which we addressed last letter. I think you’ll be happy with Christmas so long as you continue to work on your patience with Matteo. Overall you’ve done a good job but every-so-often you take his bait and take a swing at him. You adjust OK after an occasional “time out,” which is more effective at giving you some space as it is a punishment. We rarely had an issue while on vacation, and you were incredibly independent. You had ready friends in the Chaffee twins and were constantly in the water — backyard pool or ocean. Who needs the attention of parents or can be bothered by a little brother with all that excitement and entertainment?

One of my Christmas wishes is that we spend a little more time skiing. Until we can afford a dream cabin, it’s a long day and long drive but skiing is a sport I’ve come to love and enjoy sharing with you. We’ve skied one day — opening day — at Crystal Mountain so far in this unimpressive winter. After some hesitation and nervousness you found your groove alongside your Mom and were really fun to watch. Skiing is the way to get through these (usually) wet Northwest winters, and I think you’ll be glad to have learned skiing at a young age and not in your mid-20s like me. Everything is harder to start as an adult, which is why we’re throwing everything at you now. I have no doubt in my mind you can handle all of it, including flying down the hill.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 29 Months Old

i’m sitting poolside at our rental house in Kauai while you’re taking an afternoon nap in the bedroom.

We’re wrapping up a week of island time with the extended Chaffee family. Your Mom and I have hitched along for Chaffee vacations between Whistler and Hawaii a couple times now, so we are all on the same program. This is already your second time in Hawaii. Lucky guy! We tend to go this first week of December as a way to celebrate your Mom’s birthday. Pools, beaches, snorkeling, shaved ice: That’s how you celebrate.

No longer a reliant, predictable infant, you’ve made your presence known this trip with a loud voice and strong opinion of what you want to do. Usually that involves chasing lizards or roosters, both plentiful on this small island. You’ve also invented a new call-and-response game with your sister where you say/sing “I love you” in a high-pitched voice that sounds more like “A wuv woo” and she replies howling like a dog. That’s kept the rental van rides entertaining.

You’ve walked out the front door a few times without telling anyone, catching us by surprise and causing the closest adult to jet out after you. At least you’re not heading out the backdoor unannounced. That’s where the pool is. We’ve been diligent about making sure the locks are set at all times.

You’ve spent a ton of time in the pool and have gotten a lot more confident with the hours. You’ve been good about keeping your lifejacket on, which is a relief to us. As you’ve been trying to keep up with the big kids, you tried a cannonball jump yesterday, which involved running up to the pool, dropping down on your butt at the edge and scooting into the pool. That gave us a good laugh.

All that pool time and a couple hours on the beach each day can really zap your energy, which is half the point of being here — to try and wear you kids out. We’re usually only half successful and we’re worn out before you are! Today we spent a couple hours at the beach and that did the trick to get this nap kicking. But you’ve spent enough time down today and it’s time to wake you up. Let’s jump back in the pool.

Love, Dad