Three

May 27, 2018

Dearest Solomon,

It’s your 3rd birthday, son. We had a wonderful day celebrating how much you have changed in such a short year. It’s been a wonderful journey worthy of reflection.

In truth, last year as I wrote you a letter, I already knew what I wanted to tell you on this day. The number 3 is important: it’s you, mommy and me. That’s what makes a family, that’s what makes our family — the heart of it at least.

You know, at this age, it’s still easy to tell how important we are to you. I know that over time, at least, the impression of that may change, and frankly you need to find your own space. For the time, though, I relish being a small part of the center of your universe. That’s not to say that I don’t love or cherish every moment that you grow into your own person in every little way you do.

I wanted to take just a moment, though, to tell you about your mom — maybe the most important part of our little family. Without her, neither of us would likely be here. She’s a worrywart, in the best of ways. The sanity and sanctity of our days, we can’t put past your mom. It’s easy to take for granted, but she’s always there doing something, preparing something, making sure of something. She’s the best in all the best ways and I’m sure I don’t give her enough credit. I’m sure you’ll make the same mistake some day too :)

Beyond your mom, of course, you’re quite fortunate to have the love of your grandparents — Grandma Patsy, Grandma Tanya, and Grandpa Michael. I still find it funny that you use grandma and grandpa interchangeably sometimes. We’re all lucky to have them with us, though the moments are never enough. Remember as much as you can, now that you can.

To that end, I thought it would be fun to share a few of my favorite things from this year.

• Logos — your favorite food right now is this Brown Cow Maple Yogurt. You can’t day the word yogurt that well, but you call it logos.
• Making Loud — I love that you refer to sounds as “loud”. The other day you asked me “Daddy, what’s that loud?” The simple replacement of sound and loud just makes me smile.
• Fire Alarms — some time this past year we had a late night fire alarm. I was out of town, but it was traumatic to you. Today, whenever you see a fire alarm you are worried about it making loud. The other day, you wanted to get the ladder out to fix it (permanently, probably). In fact, in the bathroom, you said “Daddy, I have a idean“ and then suggested we fix it.
• Keys — you are obsessed with keys. You always want daddy’s keys, or the car keys, or some other keys. We’ve give you your own set of papa keys and they keep you pretty content.
• Gray Car — we traded in our purple Honda Fit for a gray Honda Clarity (a hybrid). You mention purple car frequently, but only to acknowledge that purple car is gone. You do enjoy putting “gas” in the new car, which involves plugging it into the wall.
• Couple minutes — I really have no idea where you learned the concept of a couple but you love it as your favorite stall tactic. Every night, before bed, there is a long routine of stalling and delaying. You always ask to see the “Magic School Bus couple minutes” which is more like 20.
• W — your birthday was filled with joy in so many ways. My favorite little moment, though, was as we had you blow out the candles (which you did wonderfully) and we asked you how old you were now. Emphatically, you have said you are now W (3 fingers, I suppose).

These days, the world feels afire, and it’s hard to see much hope out there. But every day, I wake you in the morning and reset the sentiment. Your groggy “hi daddy” first thing always raises my spirits. There is always a silver lining, especially when you make your own clouds.

Happy 3rd birthday, papa. Thank you for the hope you give me every day.

Love always,

Dad