Happy Birthday, Jack!

Dear Jack,
Happy first birthday!! I can't believe it was a year ago that I watched your sweet, wide-eyes taking in the world for the first time. A year ago that you and Scout first met, and she held you with a look of awe on her face. A year ago that your amazing parents became a mom and a dad.

My dear nephew, I just want you to know how incredibly loved you are. I honestly can't remember life without you. It seems I've known you much longer than a year. You are a very wise little person, I think. From the start, you've quietly observed things around you, preferring to process them internally before deciding to break into a smile or a laugh. I don't often see you cry; you exude a sense of calm that brings to mind a fat little zen man. You are adventurous, and will eat anything. You love to move around.

Scout takes toys from you a lot, and you are starting to stick up for yourself with a howl or a grab. "Oh, oh, oh!" she'll say. "Baby Jack is freaking out a little bit." Give him his toy back, we say. Soon you'll be walking, and the two of you will be even more of a force.

Someday you might have your own brother or sister, but right now it is just you and Scout, and you are kind of like siblings. I love this. I count on this, in fact. She is teaching you things, and you are teaching her things, too. How to take care of someone. How to share. How to adjust the volume of one's voice in certain circumstances.

At age one, you are a kisser, and will kiss us over and over again. All we have to do is ask. You are especially snuggly with your Mom. The two of you have the same eyes, and it's fun to see you watch each other. Your new game is that she pretends she's sleeping and you kiss her to wake her up. You're just such a wonderful little boy, Jack. Easygoing, and yet definitely your own person. In this, you remind me of your Dad. I think you will be musically talented, like he is.

You are also a clapper, a waver, and a babbler. You love to copy what people are doing, and will clap your hands and put them on your head to mimic Scout. Some of your nicknames are Quackers, Quackers T. Galoshes, Jackie Bear, and Jackie Robinson. We mostly refer to you as Baby Jack, and the joke is that you're going to be Baby Jack well into your teens. But I don't know about that. I can already see the little boy that you're becoming, and though I can still find the baby in your face, I know it's just a matter of time before you're talking and running around and being a kid.

I love you as if you were my very own baby, and I know that this is how your Mom feels about Scout. We are truly lucky that we live close to each other, and spend so much time together. I'm so happy, beautiful boy, to have you in our family.

Happy birthday!

Love,
Aunt Sarah

Summer Camp

Dear Scarlett,
Today is your first day of summer camp. It's an easy transition, because it's at school, a place you adore. This week you will focus on art. Or is it music? All I know is that I have to pack you a lunch all week, but next week I can send you without one, because the focus will be on cooking. You'll be making pasta and sauces in the kitchen with Virna (the cook) and 18 other kids. You couldn't pay me to run that show.

You were very excited to go to camp this morning, and searched in your closet for something "fancy" to wear, ending up in a navy blue tank top, gray and pink polka dot sweater, sassy (this means embroidered) jeans, a large peace sign silver necklace, and a blue and white scarf. Why oh why did I not get a picture of this? Oh, I know. Because you were so obsessed with listening to your new favorite song "Scotty Doesn't Know" (note: TOTALLY inappropriate for children), that the whole ensemble only came together moments before we needed to leave. Luckily, you go to Italian school, so even though we were late, we were still among the first to arrive.

You're a little confused about what it means to go to summer camp and then to start a new year of school next month. "Is me four?" you keep asking. Not yet, we tell you.

Uncle Mike got back to San Francisco yesterday, so he and I dropped you off and then tried in vain to get your attention to say goodbye. You had found your friend Leon and a train set, and off you went happily into your day.

My day was a little less blissful. I'm mired in house renovation details, and a to-do list that doesn't seem to get any smaller. But I'm glad Uncle Mike is back to help us, and you were thrilled to see him. You wanted to show him every corner of our new apartment (this did not take long), and you even requested that he put you to bed. Who can blame you if you forget about both of us in favor of your preschool buddies?

When we picked you up from camp, you climbed into the car, shaking sand all over the seats, and announced, "I turned four at school today." You're getting so big.

Love,
Mom

Morning Playlist

Dear Scarlett,
Here is your playlist from this morning, which you danced to in your underwear:

The Ramones, I Wanna Be Sedated--three times
Beck, Devil's Haircut--three times ("Can I listen to my favorite song of Beck? One more time?")
Sum 41, Fat Lip--once, because it's awful, and I have to draw the line somewhere
Sweet, Ballroom Blitz--four times, because I was too distracted making this list to limit you to three times
Mother Hips, Life in the City
Meiko, Boys with Girlfriends
Brett Dennen, Comeback Kid--once, oddly. Perhaps you're getting sick of this one? Please?
The Dandy Warhols, We Used to Be Friends--you started this one numerous times, because you love the beginning, and then didn't listen all the way through
Spoon, That's the Way We Get By
Coldplay, Lost--over and over and over and over and who is in charge here?

You're using iTunes, in all of its outdatedness. I mainly listen to music on Rhapsody now, so the stuff on my iPad is just old. But you know your way around iTunes so well, and we allow you to use the iPad a lot for your dancing needs. I feel a little ambivalent about this, because I was always really aware of how much time you spent playing games on the device, and didn't permit much. But now that you're just picking a song and getting up to dance, we're pretty liberal about it.

This morning, you climbed into bed with me and Dad at 5am, and passed back out after telling me to "please put my arm around me." You mostly have pronouns down at this point, but not always. When we woke up at 7am, I was still exhausted. I love sleeping with you, but I'm not going to call it a restful experience.

Now you've gone off to the California Academy of Sciences with your fabulous babysitter, Maggie. You are meeting Annabelle and her nanny for a day of fish, butterflies, and penguins.

And a break from the iPad.

Love,
Mom

The Walker

Dear Scarlett,
My walker arrived today. It's purple, the color you chose over red and blue. "What is it?!" you screamed with excitement. I will admit to being less excited, but maybe not by much. While the idea of a walker is...the word that comes to mind is TERRIBLE...I can't ignore the fact that I need it. It's getting very tough for me to get around, even with ankle braces and a cane. So, enter the purple walker. We took it out today to run errands with Aunt Shishie, and it definitely made things easier. Mainly, it allows me to walk without hanging on to someone, and I'll take my moments of independence where I can get them.

Last night you and I had a brief talk about my abilities. I was trying to explain to you how much I want to go swimming with you, to chase you, to race and run and swing you around. I want you to know that when I sit to the side while Dad and Shishie and Uncle Rob do those things with you, it's not because I don't want to play with you. I think you understood, and I tried to keep things light. We do a lot of things together: reading, listening to music, cooking and snuggling. I still do your hair, although that is only fun when you're not flailing around as though the comb is made of swamp fire. I know I should be grateful every single time I get to squeeze you, but sometimes I just feel so cheated out of those other moments I badly want to be a part of.

Dad took last week off of work, and we had such a good time. The two of you biked to the Exploratorium and had lunch at the Ferry Building. We all went to your swim class, and had dinner together every night. This weekend to celebrate the Fourth of July, we went to Carmel with Shishie, Rob and Baby Jack. We stayed at the Carmel Valley Ranch, where we've been a few times before, and it was basically a big pool fest. One night we roasted marshmallows and made S'mores, another night you danced wildly to a bluegrass band. The lead singer called out to you, "Young lady in the polka dot dress, you are hired!" In the mornings, you ran out of our room to see Baby Jack, and the two of you played and rolled around. As usual, you dressed up in every single article of clothing that Shishie packed for him. It was a great trip.

It's important for me to write these things down, because remembering all of the good times we still have every day helps me to balance out the harder times. It's not easy, but you make it fun. Dad makes it fun. Our whole family and all of my crazy, wonderful friends make it fun. I am grateful for that.

Also, I'm glad you chose purple. Good color for a walker.

Love,
Mom