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.

Love,

Mom

Darling Cash,

Your birthday was a couple of months ago and here I am finally getting around to writing you your letter. As you may have noticed I've been pretty busy with your new baby brother, holiday hectics, a move to a new house, and such. A few weeks ago I was sitting at the table eating lunch with you and your sister, baby Oscar sitting in his bouncy seat on the floor. I watched you eating your peanut butter sandwich, a grape jelly beard appearing across your chin and cheeks, and suddenly I realized that I missed you. It occurred to me that the new baby and an attention-demanding older sister had forced you into a "middle-child" role, perhaps a little overlooked. New babies will mix up the family dynamics, you know, but I've been trying to be better at making time for you, my sweet boy. We've been reading books, painting, playing with trains, and baking. And I feel re-connected to you and it's good.

You have learned very quickly how to talk (chalk that up to your chatty older sister) and although you speak well for one so small, your diction is very slow and deliberate: "Can. I. Have. Cookie. Mom?" In the recent months you have also developed a voracious appetite, especially for "treats". I have to be careful because if you know there is a cookie or candy anywhere in the house, you will raid the cupboards, even if that means climbing atop precarious, make-shift towers which I'm always convinced will topple and send you crashing to your untimely demise.

When you're not trying to satisfy your sweet tooth by way of a death wish, you are happily following around your older sister, not unlike a puppy dog obediently trotting after his master, and you love to be her little human photocopy. Where Maggie used to simulate Daddy and I, you shadow Maggie and repeat her every move and even spoken word. She is your best friend and you hold her in high esteem. You gladly wear her dresses, leotards, slippers and gowns and even though you unwittingly play princess tea-party more than the average boy, you also have a healthy love for tools, trains, cars, trucks, and sports. You'll just get brownie points later in life for your inclusive upbringing which is surely giving you advantageous insights to the female psyche.

Favorite things in your life right now include: elephants, anything chocolate, music (especially the Red Hot Chili Peppers song "Hey-O"), dishes that include potatoes, hats, dinosaurs, the movie Horton Hears a Who, and baths. Also you share with your sister a love of shoes that borders on an obsession.

Cash, I love you so much my little son. Although when I first got pregnant with you I was hoping for a sister for Maggie (probably because my own childhood memories consist of happy moments playing with my sisters), I am so glad to have gotten a little boy. You and Maggie have a close bond no less special than that occurring between sisters, and now with a little brother that you will soon be able to pal around with, I know that you will cultivate a loving tie to him as well. Family is the most important thing, Cash, and I just want you to know that whatever else you may have in this life, you will always have a family that loves you more than anything.

Love,

Mom

Darling Cash,

Where has the time gone, my sweet little baby boy? This past summer you have changed by leaps and bounds. You began the summer a non-sitter and only able to roll over from front to back. Now, however, you have mastered the art of crawling, you’ve begun eating solid food, you can walk along couches, coffee tables, railings, or anything else that you creatively find to steady yourself as you practice taking tiny steps on your tiny feet. You “talk” more than ever now, and love chatting it up with your sister. The other day I passed the room you two share, and peeked in on a mini concert with Maggie plunking away on her 4-note piano and both of you “singing” loudly and incoherently. It was out of tune and had no rhythm, but it was the sweetest thing I have ever heard.



As I mentioned before, you have begun eating solid foods, and are eager to try most anything we place in front of you (except for applesauce, which you gag on and act as if we’re spooning puréed bug guts into your mouth). A whole new world of food and flavors is now yours, and you are not going to let it go to waste. Nothing is outside your experimental realm, and so nothing is safe from your unclenching fists and curious tongue. Outside flavors intrigue you the most. Leaves, grass, dirt clods, flowers, rocks, sticks, and (your favorite) bark chips from the flowerbed. I intervened the other day just before a little potato bug met his fate in your cavernous little mouth. And intervening is no pleasant task since it involves two sharp new teeth freshly popped through your gums.



You adore your father, which is new to me because Maggie pretty much vehemently detested any grown human other than me until about her fourteenth month of life. But you are your daddy’s boy. You smile and laugh and hug and cuddle with daddy. You love to crawl all over him (especially if he’s laying on the floor- a position which curiously has become more common since he started teaching high school) and when he’s holding you, you’ll climb as high up on his shoulder as you can get, like a little bird trying to find the safest perch. And you are safe, little Cash. You’re safe in your father’s love, and in my love and in Maggie’s. All your family- grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, and cousins, those who are here and those who have past on - we all love you so much. And we will always love you.



You are asleep right now, napping, your blond eyelashes resting on your plump, round cheeks. I watch your breathing, slow and soft, and the thought that comes into my head is “perfect”. I think that word comes to my mind, not because my life is perfect or I’m a perfect mother, or I have perfect children, but because, at this moment, I am perfectly happy. And it’s those perfectly happy moments that make my life so worth it. So thank you, darling Cash.

I love you,
Mom

Darling Cash

I thought that if I'm going to be writing periodic letters to Maggie, I should also write them to Cash, so here is the first of many letters to my baby boy:

Darling Cash:

Although you’ve only been an official member of this family for three short months, I have a hard time remembering what our little household was like before you joined. You, with your perfect little round head, have been a dream child. Of course as I type this I am intermittently trying to burp you. If I stop patting you on the back your little forehead puckers with concern, and your lower lip sticks out further and further until you finally let out a hearty wail. But the few times a week you decide to be “needy” are a welcome change to your usual laid-back demeanor. If you didn’t have moments where you cried for attention, I worry that I might leave you in your bouncy chair weeks at a time, taking you out only to feed you, bathe you and change your diaper. But that’s a pretty silly idea because with your big blue eyes, your adorable smile and your squishy, edible cheeks, there is no way I could ever let a bouncy chair permanently take my place.

Lately you have been playing the part of discoverer, finding all sorts of new and intriguing things like your voice and your hands and the fact that you can control your voice and hands. You especially love your hands and will slowly bring them together in front of your face. Then as soon as they touch one another, you quickly bring them to your mouth and stuff them in like they’re made of salami and you haven’t eaten in weeks. You have also discovered that food and mama go hand-in-hand and if I say something while you’re eating, you’ll stop and look up at me in surprise, as if to say, “Hey, fancy meeting you here!” and then you’ll give me one of your huge, toothless grins while milk dribbles down your chin.

I love how simple our lives are right now- how I can make you so happy just by keeping your tummy full and your diaper clean. I love how you smell, I love the way your peach fuzz hair feels against my lips. I love kissing your tiny mouth, listening to you coo in the morning right after you wake up, and how you look at me with complete adoration. You are my sweet, darling baby and no matter how much you grow up, Cash, that will somehow never change.



I love you,

Mom