proud

Dylan,

We were all across the street chatting with our neighbors and their family, including their grandson Tyler, who spends most weekdays at their house.

You and Tyler (who is five or six months your junior) were running around together and throwing occasional rocks into the fish pond next to the driveway. We reminded you a few times not to go out past the sidewalk.

Once, while you were both throwing spikey-balls from a liquid amber tree from the sidewalk into the street, you heard a car coming down the street. You looked up then grabbed onto to Tyler with both hands until the car had passed, to keep him from running out into the street.

I don't know if you felt more responsibility because you already understand that you're the older one, or if you just naturally look out for your friends. Either way I was proud of you and expect you'll continue to give me reasons to be.


Dad

handed down

Dylan,

I've been meaning to post these for a while now:

Don't know much about you
Don't know who you are
We've been doing fine without you
But we could only go so far
Don't know why you chose us
Were you watching from above
Is there someone there that knows us
Said we'd give you all our love

Will you laugh just like your mother
Will you sigh like your old man
Will some things skip a generation
Like I've heard they often can
Are you a poet or a dancer
A devil or a clown
Or a strange new combination of
The things we've handed down

I wonder who you'll look like
Will your hair fall down and curl
Will you be a mama's boy
Or daddy's little girl
Will you be a sad reminder
Of what's been lost along the way
Maybe you can help me find her
In the things you do and say
And these things that we have given you
They are not so easily found
But you can thank us later
For the things we've handed down

You may not always be so grateful
For the way that you were made
Some feature of your father's
That you'd gladly sell or trade
And one day you may look at us
And say that you were cursed
But over time that line has been
Extremely well rehearsed
By our fathers, and their fathers
In some old and distant town
From places no one here remembers
Come the things we've handed down

still precious

Dylan,

Tonight for the first time you joined me in singing your night-night song. You needed a prompt here and there but you pretty much managed to sing all the words.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line

I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you
Because you're mine, I walk the line

As sure as night is dark and day is light
I keep you on my mind both day and night
And happiness I've known proves that it's right
Because you're mine, I walk the line

You've got a way to keep me on your side
You give me cause for love that I can't hide
For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide
Because you're mine, I walk the line

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line


Dad

terrible two

Dylan,

You kicked a girl in the chin today at school. When I got home and asked you about it you told me it was an accident.

I told you I didn't believe you were telling me the truth.


Dad

Beautiful

Dylan,

I know I'm biased but...
you are the most beautiful thing





Love,
Mom

Green Burrito

Dylan,

You have a green towel with a sewn on hood that was given to you as a baby gift by Dad's Uncle Joe and Aunt Dawn. After your evening shower or bath, we drape the hood over your wet blond hair and wrap you up. Then we scoop you up and carry you to the bed where your jammies are waiting. Dad's been wrapping you up this way since the early days, though it's easier now as you are more than capable of standing while we do it.

A few weeks ago when I did this, I called you my little green burrito, and asked you if I could have a bite. After all, there are few things more precious than a freshly bathed toddler wrapped in a towel. I recall some pretty cute pictures of myself in that state, and come to think of it, once we cover up the blond hair there's quite a bit of resemblance. But I digress...

You obliged my request so I scooped your burrito'd self into my arms and proceeded to dive my face into your towel wrapped tummy, saying "yum yum yum yum". You immediately started to giggle and then full blown laughter ensued. When I stopped, you insisted on another bite.

Well...OK

Now each night you patiently wait for Dad to wrap you in your towel, knowing this is what transforms you into the green burrito. Wherever I am in the house, Dad will track me down, little green burrito in arms, so you can offer me a bite. Based on the anticipation I see on your face, and the response I get, I don't think this routine will get old to you anytime soon.

Love,
Mom (keeper of the worlds best burrito)

becoming gold

dylan,

The same cd has been sitting in my bedside alarm clock for most of your life.

Part of the bedtime routine has always been turning on the light then turning on the music. For a long time we'd just start at the beginning and listen to the first coupla songs, but we eventually migrated farther and farther into the playlist and settled on listening to songs 10 and 11.

You ask for #10 She's Becoming Gold by name but I'm the one who likes #11, Things We've Handed Down.

You've learned now which buttons to push in sequence and (roughly) how many times they need to be pushed to play the song you want.


dad

training

Dylan,

I can't remember the last time I had to change a poopy diaper. Thank you, thank you!

I knew that I really didn't know what I was in for, but you've handled potty training quite well and made it easy, more or less.

Over the weekend you went half a day wearing underwear without an "accident" (although we have yet to use that word with you in this context, it conveys my meaning here well). You didn't make it through the very sleepy car ride to a friend's house, though.

That reminds me, I still need to wash that carseat cover.

Dad

Just another day

Dylan,

It's one of those great weather days our region is so well known for. At just after five in the evening it is a sunny, warm 86 degrees. We're all outside enjoying the soft breeze. Dad's sitting on the lounge couch and you've been doing just about everything an almost two and a half year old can find to do on such a day. A romp through the grass with your rubber ball, a climb on your play structure, some digging in your oak-barrel dirt container, some scrutinizing of bugs on the patio (Uncle Marc would be proud), and some singing with Daddy.

Life is pretty good.

We put you in a pair of underwear before we came outside and brought the potty chair out. You made it at least a half hour before that familiar grab. I quickly asked you if you needed to go potty, but it was evident that I was too late. Well, at least you were aware of the fact that you had already gone.

Now that your shorts and underwear were wet, I decided to let you run around in your birthday suit. Less laundry for me, and maybe more of a reminder to you that you didn't have the luxury of a diaper. So far it's working. You've made one productive trip to the potty, and have yet to water the flagstone or grass!

I must admit, you look pretty darn cute in just your t-shirt and crocs.

Love,
Mom

gg's blanket

Dylan,

On our trips to visit my folks you had the pleasure of a huge, fluffy-soft, white blanket to sleep with. Grandma gg noticed how much you appreciated it and sent you one of your own, which you've been sleeping with every night since.

When you ask for it by name you call it "gg's blanket". Every night when I cover you up I think of how much she loves you.


Dad