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

Mia bella figlia

Dear Scarlett,
You are out with Nonnie, Aunt Cathy, and Baby Jack. I am using this delightful quiet time to get things done. There is still laundry to fold, Italian homework to finish, and, oh, I don't know, an entire house to organize before moving day. But I'd rather write to you.

You have been learning Italian for about 10 months at school, and we practice at home, too. My Italian is extremely basic, but we read books together and look up words we don't know. Your favorite words are animal names, like pippistrello (bat) and scoiattolo (squirrel.) Your interest in the language varies. Sometimes you are so excited to look up words. "How do you say brick in Italian?" "How do you say stop sign in Italian?" Other days you scream at me when I dare to use my limited skills to ask you what you ate at school.

Then last week we had a serious breakthrough. One of your teachers informed me that you were speaking Italian in class. Apparently, you were building an art garden with a group of your friends, and having a conversation about funghi (mushrooms.) "Funghi, funghi everywhere!" you proclaimed.

I'm not sure how impressive that actually is, but your teacher was so excited. "She's trying!" she smiled at me. And since then, you really are. Dad will ask you what you did one day. "Niente," you'll respond. It's not true, but it's in Italian! I heard you in your room the other day yelling "Stamattina! Stamattina!" (it means "this morning") at the top of your lungs. Actually, the whole neighborhood probably heard you. And it was afternoon, but so what?

You even go so far as to use entire phrases. "Ancora una volta one more time!" you'll say when you want something to happen again. That one is always in both Italian and English. It's so fun to hear you speaking another language. I'm taking lessons once a week, and I really look forward to the time when we can have an entire conversation about Dad right in front of him and he won't know what we're saying!

Another June highlight is the fact that we are moving to a new apartment (with an elevator) while our new house is renovated. We got the keys today, and both you and I saw the place for the first time. It's lovely, and--in real estate speak--cozy. It's in a sunny neighborhood, we'll be a 5-minute drive from your preschool, and AT&T Park is right outside our door. I think it will be a fun place to spend 6 months. You must be so confused about what is going on with our living arrangements. We're still in our old place, we keep taking you to the new house, where you "check on the flowers", and now we've introduced you to this random new apartment. As of today, you literally have three bedrooms you can call your own.

Quello che una vita interessante!

Love,
Mom

Baby clothes and sweet moves

Dancing Girl

Dear Scarlett,
As I write this, you are spinning around in the living room to Paul Simon's Graceland. This is solidly one of your favorite albums. We're listening to it on Rhapsody, one of our new afternoon activities. Some days we listen to Elizabeth Mitchell, who came recommended by Amanda and was an instant hit. Other days it's The White Stripes or Brett Dennen. Today we tried G. Love. "Is he saying baby has sauce? I don't like this one." Then I tried to expand your Paul Simon repertoire with a little Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard. Nixed. But you were into 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.

We spent the weekend in Arizona to celebrate your cousin Grant's high school graduation, and at the big Saturday night party, you played DJ for a bit, requesting Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen and The Ghost Inside by The Broken Bells. Arizona was awesome, full of hours in the pool and lots of time spent with family, especially your number one pick for the weekend, your 19-year-old cousin Jade.

We've been traveling a lot lately. Aunt Shishie and Uncle Rob's wedding was this month in Chicago. It was an incredible event, held at the coolest wedding venue I've ever seen, Salvage One. The short description is that it's a furniture store in the West Loop, but the reality is so much better than that.

After the 175 guests had filed into their seats, Uncle Rob walked down the aisle holding Baby Jack. You, as Flower Girl, followed with a small bouquet of pink carnations. I couldn't believe what a great job you did, heading down the aisle all alone. Once you got to the front, instead of sitting down, you decided to dance. The song was Wildflowers by Tom Petty, played by a few members of the ridiculously talented wedding band.

Uncle Rob told you to just keep dancing as the rest of the wedding party took their places. Then it was time for Nonnie and Pops to escort Shishie down the aisle. I have never seen her look more beautiful, and she looks pretty good most of the time. Uncle Rob's college roommate and good friend, Daniel, married them. He started the wedding off by yelling "Let's make some noise!!" So that's the kind of wedding it was. I can't wait to see the video. That night, back in our hotel room with Nonnie and Pops and the newlyweds, we went over every detail, so hesitant to let the amazing evening come to an end. One of my favorite parts was when Uncle Rob stood up to speak and announced that he couldn't put his feelings for Liz into words. The band started to play, and I thought his speech was over, but then he launched into a Sam Cooke song, Nothing Can Change this Love. HIGH. LIGHT.

It's not always music and parties these days. There are house renovations to deal with, summer plans to make. But for now, let's just keep dancing.

Love,
Mom