Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Darling Cash,

You turned 3 in December and here it is April and I'm just now sitting down to write you your letter. You've been keeping me busy, my little rough and tumble boy. Boy- you are all boy. Remember when you used to let Maggie dress you up in leotards and bows and all things sparkly? And you would dance around after Maggie sipping tea and chatting about princesses? Those days are gone... long gone. Now you walk- no run- around the house with some kind of pseudo-sword in hand (usually a wooden spoon or a stick you've snuck into the house) in constant battle with dragons, dinosaurs, and the ever obscure "bad guys" whose motives are always a bit vague. And there are always sound effects included- sword fights (schling! schling!), race cars (weeeerrrrhhhh!), karate moves (hi-YA!), etc. Poor Maggie now has to fit your daily theatrical encounters into her fairy tale sagas, which have morphed into soap opera worthy scenarios in which you, the valiant prince must rescue her, the (all too competent) damsel in distress. This format works for now, both of you satisfied in your imaginary realm, and you continue to be best friends and playmates.

Cash, you have an endless supply of energy. Where Maggie's energy finds it's release through words and constant commentary of the world around her, your energy is released in it's raw, physical form. It has happened more than once that at the end of the day, all worn out, your father and I will find ourselves lying on the ground, Maggie giving us an account of the day's minutiae, and you jumping, balancing, wrestling and otherwise bombarding our weary bodies with all the vigor your 3 year old body possesses.

That physical vigor spills over into the cerebral sphere as well- you are very curious about the world around you. Why just this afternoon you were sitting on the couch with me and wondered about the bump on my ankle. This sparked a conversation on bones and the lateral and medial malleolus' that make up the bony protuberances of the ankle. As soon as I had finished my explanation (thank you Anatomy 101) you stared blankly at me, told me my feet were cracking and went to find some lotion to rub into the heels of my feet (by the way, thanks). Perhaps my answer was a little over-the-top, but I like to be thorough. Little by little, you soak up all this information and one day you will perhaps know the answers to all your questions: how do cars work? Why do birds fly? Can I fly? Why can't we eat lotion? Where does the sun go at night? What's for dinner?

Cash every day you seem to grow and change- pushing limits (both yours and mine). You are between a toddler and a little boy. In attempts to keep up with Maggie you push yourself physically and most of the time I'm amazed at what you learn to do. Sometimes, though, your attempts end in tears and a scraped knee and I get to scoop you up and kiss you and fix your hurts and bruises and I love it- being needed that way. I hope that as the need for comfort in times of physical pain slowly ebbs, that you will know you can still come to me for comfort in times of emotional or mental distress. That you'll still depend on me as a source of constant, unchanging love and support- please know, Cash, that now and forever I've got your back.



Matt Mattson said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Matt Mattson said...

http://twitpic.com/1feqns Thanks to a certain "MC" for the suggestion;)

ashley said...

Kat, you need to write a column or a book or something. Beautiful! and yes Cash, you are darling. :)