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
