So I don't forget. . .

Dear Noah,

I haven't written in awhile and wanted to make sure I documented some of our favorite things you were doing  at the young/old age of twenty-two months.

Yesterday, I was sitting on the bottom step with you when Mom asked if you wanted to take a bath. You jumped up immediately and because I was in your way, emphatically said "SEE-ya".

You place your animals on their side (often on the steps) and say "nap, nap".  You then come into the living room, hold your finger over your mouth let us know to be quiet.

On of your favorite things to do right now is to yell "jumping, jumping".   As you yell this, you jump as high as you can.  I don't think you have ever actually made it off the ground, but the proud look on your face suggest you think you were soaring.   You also run through the house as fast as you can yelling "running, running".  You also attempt to march, but it looks more like you are doing some sort of zombie walk.

Any time we ask who you are talking to when you have a phone up to your ear, you say "James".

You found a pine cone the other day and you carried it everywhere calling it "sinecone".

You vacuum with your Fisher Price popper and when finished you wind up the imaginary cord and put it away.  You also plug in the imaginary cord to an imaginary electrical outlet when you begin.

One of the cutest things you have done recently is to stand in the middle of the living room and strum the picture of the guitar on your shirt while singing. You love the piano and always want us to show you videos of people playing.  You are also able to pick out and distinguish when a piano, guitar or trumpet is being played when we are listening to music.

This is the only time it makes any sense to undertake this endeavor, but I am going to attempt to list all of the words or phrases that you say and seem to understand:

Outside, upstairs, downstairs, sit DOWN, up, high, airplane, truck, BIG truck (your emphasis), car, train, bike, motorcycle, cow (moo), sheep (baaa), horse (nay), lion (roar), turtle, elephant, giraffe, birds, fish, cat, dog, snake, monkey, Elmo, Big Bird, Oscar, Zoe, Grover, cookie, cheese, toast, bread, kiwi, apple, banana, chicken, ice cream, water, broccoli, peas, milk, salsa, vinegar, ketchup, water, juice, chin, beard, foot, toe, finger, hand, arm, belly, bottom, chest, back, neck, hair, couch, chair, fell, trip, spinning, fork, knife, spoon, plate, cup, bowl, picture, bye-bye, nap, sleeping, sorry, red, blue, green, yellow, kleenex, TV, video, momma, dadda, Grandma, James, Betty, please, thank-you, help please, yucky, whoops, uh-oh,  poop, pee, music, drum, guitar, singing, tree, flowers, sky, moon, house, pumpkin, stairs, lights, bath, funny, open, close, miss, lap, wash hands, soap, big truck gone, thank-you, mama gone, shoot, miss, blanket, piano, door, open, close, camera, screaming, Liam. . .

Love,
Dad

The Leaf

Dear Noah,


We went outside a couple weeks ago and sat down on the hill outside our apartment.  I don't often sit down and really "open my eyes", but I did that day.  I found an amazing leaf and spent quite awhile examining it while you found various dirt piles or sticks to amuse yourself.  I had a few (probably overly dramatic) thoughts that I would save the leaf and leave it in a book with some deeply profound insight.  Shortly after this you walked over to me, took the leaf out of my hands and excitedly and repeatedly crumbled it.  If you ever find 1/13th of a leaf in one of your books, perhaps it will make more sense.


You can now give us the tell us the sounds that a cow, sheep, cat, dog, lion and car makes.  There is potentially nothing more adorable then your "moo".  You can also identify most of your body parts when asked.  (Although asking you where your eyes are, proves to be somewhat risky as you don't point "at", but actually touch.)


I have a red sweatshirt that you always "suggest" that I wear every time you see it.  I often put it on based on your request, but didn't the other day.  You then walked over near the door, put it down and laid beside it while hugging it with one outstretched arm.


Christmas ornaments, apples and oranges are all greeted by your proclamation of "ball. . .ball. . . ball".  As you get older and mature, these distinctions will be made, but something struck me recently as it pertained to maturity.  While maturity certainly involves more then the ability to make distinctions, it is the inability to make distinctions that often belies immaturity in adults.   Whether it is in issues of religion, politics or relationships, you will encounter those that desperately seek to place everything into a limited amount of neat, tidy boxes.  You will encounter sweeping generalizations, convenient labels and quests to place each person into "us" or "them".   Deeply complex and layered issues will become nothing more then self-serving wedges whereby others can be demonized, marginalized or disregarded.  While there is an implicit danger on the other end of this spectrum as well, always be wary of those around you who know no other word for "watermelon" then "ball".


You are currently eating your snack while Josh Ritter's "So Runs the World Away" plays in the background.


Love,
Dad

Control. . .

Dear Noah,


I fully plan to live to one hundred and ten years of age.  I also plan to play basketball with you until I'm ninety-seven and beat you until I'm at least eighty.  Having said that, none of us are promised tomorrow.   There is a great deal I want to share with you and while I plan to present it to you in person, I want to ensure you hear it.    The following was more eloquently and succinctly captured by Ronald Niebuhr in The Serenity Prayer, but is an area I have been wrestling with lately.


One of the greatest battles is first, learning to distinguish between what we can control and what we cannot, and then disciplining ourselves to place on our energy on the former as opposed to the latter.   While exerting energy trying to change what we cannot control can lead to bitterness and disillusionment, it is not here that I want to focus.  It is rather on the fatalism and feelings of victimization that can occur when we don't place our efforts on what we can impact.


I have realized that a great deal of my anger and frustration with "unforeseen circumstances", while it has a valid component, is often a deflection from areas I simply had not acted on.  Financial hardships out of your control will come, but it doesn't change the fact that you can control your spending, budget and accountability presently.  Situations will arise that demand your time, often when you feel there is none to give.  That doesn't change the reality of how you budget your time presently.  Often the frustration with what we can't control is directly related to how little we have done to take responsibility for what we could have controlled.   There are various other areas that range from your health to relationships that follow a similar template.


You had your first voting experience yesterday by going to the polls with me.  (You helped by doing your best to bring down the privacy partition.)  You also assisted me in washing cans of V-8 for the first time by adding them to the laundry.  (I forgot you had been transferring them to the washing machine when I started the load later.)


You continue to add new words every day and your Mom and I are often overwhelmed by just how adorable you are.  You go down the small slide at the mall repeatedly now.  You also pushed a small "toy vehicle" part way up our hill two days ago, got on and then rode down.  (With me hovering very close.)  You have a "boo-boo" on your toe that has been there for approximately six weeks.  It apparently hurts every time you have done something wrong or hear our "stern voice".  You help point it out by whimpering, touching it and raising your foot into the hair.


As I write this, you are pushing around a laundry basket and collecting different items along the way.


Love,
Dad

Your Mother.

Dear Noah,


Your mom has been gone for almost a week now, but is finally getting home tonight.  I have missed her a great deal and though you didn't always express it in the most pleasant format possible, it was clear you missed her as well.  I thought this would be a good time to reflect a little and tell you about her.


The first thing you should know is how deeply she loves you and how much time she has spent focusing on the smallest of details to make sure you are raised in the best possible environment.  Your seventeen months on earth have been enveloped in the framework of careful consideration and love as well as a great deal of worry that she was making the best decisions for you.  


If there was ever a picture of strength in the face of difficulty, it would be your mom.  She has faced adversity and stress that would have demoralized many, but through it all kept her resolve, her passion, and her commitment to focus on what was important.   From being in labor when she learned we had lost our house in a tornado and then living in a temporary apartment, to moving to a new city and through it all finishing her second year of medical school and then studying and passing her board exams, she expressed a fortitude and grace that was inspiring.


You will often hear discussions about women who "just don't know how beautiful they are".  This can often be somewhat trite and at times unconvincing, but your mom personifies that statement.  And while this may be more relevant to me, I think it's important for you to know, because it illuminates a great deal about your mother.


The last areas I will note are your mom's intensity, passion and authenticity.  She often struggles under the weight of just how big her heart and passion for the world is, but it is this struggle that is so informative.  She is never content with simple answers and wrestles with the big questions with a tenacity that you will rarely see matched.  Discontent is rarely a virtue, but with your mother, it often is.  She is not content with mediocrity or the status quo.  She is not content to settle into a comfortable web of oblivion and ignore the injustice in the world.   The incredible thing is that you will be here to witness her journey firsthand.


You're too young right now to realize how blessed you are.  You are too young to recognize what an amazing mother you have.  Many years from now you will read and possibly reread this and reflect, perhaps as a parent yourself, and will recognize what an amazing, God given gift you were provided.


Love,
Dad

My Son the Street Sweeper

Dear Noah,


Don't get me wrong, I've envisioned watching you score the winning touchdown from the stands and I'm well aware of the natural tendency to attach visions of your future success with my status as a father.  Having said that, there is a quote that I want to be one of the driving forces in how you are raised:


“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”  Martin Luther King


There will be no shortage of societal pressure that will seek to press you into a predetermined mold.  There will be no shortage of voices that strive to wrap the status attached to what you do with your self-worth.  You will undoubtedly grow up facing suggestions that attainment at any cost is a virtue.   It is my sincere hope however that you will learn to recognize that it is not "what" you do, but "how" you do it that is most important.  


Your mom and I spend part of this weekend in Kansas City with the Abbott's and saw Sufjan Stevens in concert.  We had a great time and enjoyed the concert, but missed you.  Sufjan will no doubt be the soundtrack to a great deal of your childhood.  You stayed with Oma who has been in Jefferson City for around a month, and from what we hear you had a lot of fun.


And before I forget, at some point in the coming years, you are grounded.  I brought you downstairs a few days ago in my shorts and while looking at my stomach, you said "ball". . . "ball".  I just don't want their to be any confusion when you think I grounded you out of nowhere.  


You have begun to frequently say a very distinct (and drawn out) uh-oh.  This usually follows something you do intentionally like throwing a toy behind the couch.  


While you have always had a natural ability to break your mom and I down with your cry and "pitiful face", you have recently taken this to a whole different realm.  It's as if somehow in your short life, you have tapped into the heart of human misery and sadness and found a way to capture it in your voice and facial expressions.  I don't ever take you outside before your first nap.  I did today.


Love,
Dad

Seventeen Months

Dear Noah,

You woke up an hour too early this morning and are currently whining at me, but I wouldn't change a thing.  I have a great deal to catch you up on over the seventeen months of your life.  From a tornado that destroyed our home where you would have first lived to the recent summer we spent out of state, our lives have been an adventure marked by extreme highs as well as frustrating lows.
  
You have been walking for months and are very close to being able to run.  You say quite a few words that include ball, bath, kittie, mama, dada and juice.  You try to climb everything you can get at least one foot on and enjoy throwing yourself wildly when you are on the couch. 

The following are some of the adorable things taking place right now:  Throwing balls wildly and often behind you. . . taking a series of very slow steps backwards when you want to sit on our lap while we are on the floor. . . your love of kitties (zzuzhuzz). . . walking over and laying your head down on us when we ask for a hug. . . trying to feed us your saliva soaked food. . .your Squidward laugh that often sounds fake, but is beyond adorable. . . wanting us to read you the same books over and over. . . (you're presently bringing me a book too big for you to handle "The Little Engine That Could" and are instantly frustrated). . . kissing each person or animal every time we turn the page . . .having us kiss "Monkey" before you go to bed. . .

I will never be able to effectively capture my emotions or memories and am honestly intimidated to even try, but these letters will serve as an attempt to share with you how much I love you as well as conveying the dreams I have for your life.


Love,
Dad

"Until you have a son of your own... you will never know the joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son. You will never know the sense of honor that makes a man want to be more than he is and to pass something good and hopeful into the hands of his son. And you will never know the heartbreak of the fathers who are haunted by the personal demons that keep them from being the men they want their sons to be."  - Kent Nerburn