Archive for May, 2012

Dear Evan: Heading toward the Terrible Twos

May 29th, 2012

Dear Evan:

How long has it been since I wrote a letter to you? Months, at least. A year? Probably not. I could check, but I’m afraid to. No, I’m ashamed to.

You’ve grown so much just over the past few weeks, that it’s daunting to sum up everything since my last letter. Your vocabulary grows every day. Yesterday, you and I were reading some Cat in the Hat book about animals. You stood, toddled over to a toybox, pulled out a stuffed giraffe, said “Zhhhhaf. Ug!” and hugged it tight. Yes, there was a giraffe front and center on the page, and you had one you could hug.

And some of it is in Spanish! We try to limit your time spent on front of the television, but when it’s upwards of 90 degrees outside in April, inevitably we’ve got an hour or so not spent reading or playing blocks or plonking around on your piano or chasing the dogs from room to room. The solution is a limited selection of Spanish immersion DVDs and Blu-Rays of “Finding Nemo,” “The Muppets” and “Up,” all of which have dubbed Spanish tracks.

Right now, we can ask you to find the parts of your face in Spanish, and you get it right immediately. Amazing. So amazing to watch.

You climb constantly now, having only just mastered the skill. Couches, chairs, dogs, playground slides, the long wooden chest under our front windows – it’s all fair game. Sometimes you can only make it partway and are stranded, wiggling in place, unwilling to give up, until we stop laughing and give your bum a quick push. (Honestly, it’s the same move we use to get the dogs into the truck.)

So, enough about your resume. How’s life? Tense, right now. Your mommy is finishing her doctorate (just a week or so away at this point) and I’m working more hours than ever (on average 60 a week). We’re trying to balance work and school and life and your care, and sometimes it’s exhausting. The good part is, that’s temporary. Yes, you’re rocketing toward your Terrible Twos, but that’s temporary too. The light at the end of this particular tunnel is the glow from a whole new chapter in our story.

We’ll talk when we’re on the other side.