Dear Tyler -- 3 years old

Dear Tyler,

Last night you fell asleep clutching your new sword (actually a princess wand) that you picked from the birthday box at school. You are three years old now. My big boy. You started preschool in September. I can't say you love it yet (you still cry pretty much at every drop off) but I do believe the idea is growing on you. Really, though, you just want to be with your mama. My little mama's boy. Correction -- my BIG little mama's boy.

Every day you love to tell me secrets. You cup your little hand around your ear and stick your ear next to my ear and then whisper, "I'm in love with you mama." It melts my heart every single time. You like another game too. You ask me if I'll still be your mama when you're old -- as old as Daddy, as old as Grammie, as old as Papa Bob. And my answer is always the same. I will be your mama forever and ever and ever and ever and ever. It's the best thing I've ever been. And the best thing I ever will be.

These days you are into firetrucks and superheroes. You were the cutest little fireman ever for Halloween, and followed it up with a firefighter birthday party. I don't think you really liked being the center of attention too much, but you sure did light up when a real Norfolk firetruck pulled into our driveway and gave you and your friends a whole tour of his truck...and even turned on his lights and siren. You loved it.

You are sweet and shy and silly and independent...and freakishly strong. You love playing with your sister or by yourself. You are affectionate and loving and give the biggest best hugs. When you don't get your way though -- watch out. Avery has many bite wounds from her dear little brother to prove my point. Recently I chased you out of Avery's school and through the busy parking lot full speed. You did NOT want to listen to me. I nearly had a heart attack. Another time I tried wrestling you into your carseat and you punched me right in the nose. I couldn't believe it. I immediately got Daddy who came running down to scold you and guess what you did? You spit in his face! Woa!

Here's the thing with you though. You definitely test your limits. And then you learn your lesson. After I finally caught up to you in the parking lot, I threw you into the car, strapped you in and then made you sit there and watch as Avery and I played on the playground. You were pissed and heartbroken and the other moms were probably wondering what on earth was going on -- but you never ran through a parking lot again. After the punching/spitting incident, we took your lovey away for the whole morning. You cried and screamed and sobbed and then finally told me how sorry you were and that you learned your lesson. After I picked you up from the gym later that morning you handed me a picture and told me you made it for me because you loved me so much.

You are so easy to love, Tyler. And so easy to forgive. You bring me and Daddy so much joy every single day.

I love you so much sweet boy...forever and ever and ever.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Avery -- 4 years old

Dear Avery – 4 years old

Hard to believe you are four. Some days it seems as though you are 14. You have the sassiness and mood swings of a teenager, and your favorite two songs at the moment are “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” and “Call me Maybe”. You insisted on getting your ears pierced for your 4^th birthday and did so without a single tear or flinch, but you absolutely refuse to let me pull back (or even brush) your hair . So your sparkling ears remain hidden. You are stubborn and strong-willed. You are a mini-me.

Still, though, you are my baby doll and always will be. You need reassurance every night that there are no fires, monsters or bugs in your room, and even after that, you spend most of your nights on the cot next to our bed where Mommy and Daddy are close. You request multiple kisses and hugs at drop-off at the gym and at school, and you know that a mother’s kiss cures all boo-boos. I am in no rush for you to grow up.

In spite of that, you are doing it a little bit day by day. You make this little thinking face when your wheels are turning. And they are turning all the time now. You have big ideas and are never shy to follow through. You started planning your birthday party back in July. We couldn’t take a trip to Target without carefully searching the party aisle for princess plates, pink napkins and favors for the goody bags. Never mind that we already had a stack of princess plates and pink napkins at home, and we were bursting with puzzles, pencils and notebooks, you wanted everything to be perfect…and well…you just wanted everything. You had pages and pages of guest lists – a boy page, a girl page, an adult page, etc. You originally had at least 35 kids on the list and every single one of them was truly and honestly your friend. What can I say? You are my sunshiney little social butterfly. 

You and I worked hard to plan the party. We were partners. We created,  printed, stuffed and stamped invitations, browsed and ordered the princess castle bouncy house and drew out the layout for your backyard bash. To say you were excited was an understatement.

In the end we had about 23 kids crammed into our playroom while our backyard soaked up all the rain. Yes, after all that planning and dreaming of a beautiful, colorful, crisp fall day, it rained and poured all over your parade. And do you know what you did? You LOVED it. There was never even one moment of disappointment. We completely pinked up our dining room and living room with tablecloths, balloons and streamers and we went with the flow. We set up the big wet bouncy house right outside the playroom door and Daddy helped pass kids back and forth. Some of the kids even enjoyed the big bubble table that you were so adamant about having. It was an ultimate lesson in being easy-going (something we focus on daily with you) and you passed with flying colors. I am so proud of you. You had the time of your life.

You are growing into such a big, beautiful, smart little girl. You can write your name, identify letters and sounds, count to 100 and add simple numbers. You read your first book recently and were so proud to read it again…and again…and again. You are passionate about books and love going to story hour at the library every week and picking out a whole pile to bring home with us. You even sleep with a whole basket of books in your bed. You love gymnastics and dance and you love to play soccer (especially with Daddy as your coach!) 

You absolutely love school, and I was so honored to accompany you as the parent volunteer last week. You are the mother hen of the class. I see how already at age 4 you are a leader -- marching to your own drum in your dress-up wedding gown. You marched and you sang until every other little girl in the class had on a princess dress and was marching along right behind you. You were the star of the show and you loved every second of it. You are such a pleasure to watch.

 People look up to you and I think they always will. You just have that quality about you. It is your gift. My wish for you (and my responsibility as your mother) is to make sure you always use that gift for the good. Do good and others will follow.  Be an up-stander, not a by-stander. Treat others kindly. Stay true to yourself. 

And always stay my baby doll.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Avery & Tyler -- my hopes and dreams for you

Dear Avery and Tyler,

I can't take credit for writing this but I came across it, and it brought tears to my eyes. These are my hopes and dreams for the both of you...

I hope I raise a child who says “thank you” to the bus driver when he gets off the bus, “please” to the waiter taking his order at the restaurant, and holds the elevator doors when someone’s rushing to get in.

I hope I raise a child who loses graciously and wins without bragging. I hope he learns that disappointments are fleeting and so are triumphs, and if he comes home at night to people who love him, neither one matter. Nobody is keeping score, except sometimes on Facebook.

I hope I raise a child who is kind to old people.

I hope I raise a child who realizes that life is unfair: Some people are born rich or gorgeous. Some people really are handed things that they don’t deserve. Some people luck into jobs or wealth that they don’t earn. Tough.

I hope I raise a child who gets what he wants just often enough to keep him optimistic but not enough to make him spoiled.

I hope I raise a child who knows that he’s loved and special but that he’s not the center of the universe and never, ever will be.

I hope I raise a child who will stick up for a kid who’s being bullied on the playground. I also hope I raise a child who, if he’s the one being bullied, fights back. Hard. Oh, and if he’s the bully? I hope he realizes that his mother, who once wore brown plastic glasses and read the phonebook on the school bus, will cause him more pain than a bully ever could.

I hope I raise a child who relishes life’s tiny pleasures—whether it’s a piece of music, or the color of a gorgeous flower, or Chinese takeout on a rainy Sunday night.

I hope I raise a child who is open-minded and curious about the world without being reckless.

I hope I raise a child who doesn’t need to affirm his self-worth through bigotry, snobbery, materialism, or violence.

I hope I raise a child who likes to read.

I hope I raise a child who is courageous when sick and grateful when healthy.

I hope I raise a child who begins and ends all relationships straightforwardly and honorably.

I hope I raise a child who can spot superficiality and artifice from a mile away and spends his time with people and things that feel authentic to him.

I hope I raise a child who makes quality friends and keeps them.

I hope I raise a child who realizes that his parents are flawed but loves them anyway.

Dear Tyler -- 2 1/2 years old

Dear Tyler,

My sweet, sweet boy. It is Saturday morning, otherwise known around here as Daddy Day. This is the day Daddy gets up at the crack of dawn (5:37 today to be exact) with you and your sister, and mommy gets to sleep in. I couldn't fall back to sleep today, though, so I am enjoying sipping my coffee and watching the news while the three of you are out getting munchkins and taking your weekly drive around town.

You turned 2 1/2 yesterday. You are so proud. You are getting smarter and sweeter by the day. You have started a class at the YMCA called "So Big", essentially a weekly 1-hour introduction to preschool. You enjoyed yourself the first Tuesday (and never took your new backpack off your back!) but when I told you this past Tuesday that you were going to "school" again your words were, "But I already did that!"

You make me laugh every day. On Wednesday this week Daddy was on a trip and I took you and Avery out for your favorite dinner -- grilled cheese and yogurt at Panera. You were your wild little self, jumping up and down in the booth, too busy to eat much of anything. In the bathroom we had a whole conversation about The Men's Room and The Ladies Room, all overheard by an older woman in the stall next to us who told me she wished she had a tape recorder. (Yes, sweetheart, your sister potty-trained you about 4 months ago. Three days and you were totally in underwear. You blew my mind with that one!) I explained that when you grow up and become a man you can go in the Men's Room like Daddy but for now you can come in the Ladies Room with Mommy. You told me that when I become a man I can go in the Men's Room too. Haha!!

Anyway we got back to the table and you were wild as ever. Somehow your pants starting to fall down and you and Avery thought it was just hysterical that your tiny little bum was hanging out. I quickly pulled your pants and underwear back up (sometimes I think you are too young to be potty-trained and wearing underwear!!) and you swiftly pulled them right back down all the way and not only mooned but FLASHED the entire restaurant.

Oh Tyler! Trying my damnedest not to laugh, I yanked the pants back up, took one last bite of my salad, stuffed your grilled cheese into my bag and piled up all our dishes with one arm while I carried your squirming 33-lb body in my other arm and quickly dropped our tray off and fled the scene. As we rushed out of there an old lady told me, "Oh honey, flashing is good." Haha!!!

We got into the car and you were quite devastated to learn that no, you did NOT earn your cookie.

Mortifying as it was, I know it was one of those mommy moments that I will look back on and smile. I know someday I will long for that sweet, clueless little boy who hadn't yet been taught one of life's important lessons. We both know you will never pull that stunt again, but I also know that you will never be quite that innocent and free and...well, clueless again either.

You are growing up fast, Tyler, and I want to savior all of it. At bedtime you always ask for a hug and a "mah" -- your word for a kiss. Lately you tell me you want a BIG one. Your wrap your little arms around my neck and squeeze with all your might. And then you stick your little lips to mine and say "mah" as loud and big as you can. It is my favorite moment of every day. I hope you always love me as pure and as big as you do now. I know I always will.

I love you so much sweet boy. MAH!!!!!!!

Love,
Mommy