Wednesday, June 20, 2012

June 2012 Letter to Nate

Dear Nathaniel Thomas, 

Hi sweet boy. You seem so old to me lately.  From the way you speak to what you actually say, you continually remind me that your baby days are long gone.  For example, every day you have been expressing your wild imagination. You frequently talk about your (imaginary) cousin Boran, and your adventures all over the world. And you spent one morning last week caring for your (imaginary) baby sister Corn, whom you kept primarily in a baby sling on your chest.  It was really sweet. But, Corn? You really have quite a talent for names. If we ask you the proper name of an animal or person you are quick with a "Pooska" or "Tarchi" or the like. Today in the car we were making up a story and you told me that one of the lead characters, a puppy, was named Cupbeef. I am really scared for the day we get a new pet. Although you did name the (almost dead now) plant in your room, Monk, so that wasn't so bad.

You continue to be very into your television shows. And I continue to feel guilty about the amount of television you watch. But at least for the most part, they tend to be educational, like Sesame Street. One of your new favorites is So You Think You Can Dance. Which, aside from edited versions of Glee, is just about the only "adult" show that we watch. Although I wouldn't say it is educational, per se, you do seem very inspired by the different styles of dance. One guy came on and brilliantly danced while in character as a praying mantis. You have since been doing your own bug dance, which is creepy and awesome and involves you moving your belly in a really bizarre way. And I swear you were krumping the other day. I love it.

Cue music!

We're spending a lot of time in the park again since it has been warmer and you are flinging your body all over the place. I  try to let you run like a maniac and be a little gymnast as much as possible. And, although it is hard and I want to stop you and protect you from all danger, I know that you will learn more if you scrape your knees from time to time. Which you do. A lot. 

My brain is a bit mushy right now. We just got back from a little mini vacation (more on that another time) and I think we are all having trouble adjusting to reality. Although you did tell me this evening that your "friends" (which would be the army of stuffed animals/characters you sleep with: Bert, Ernie, Elmo, Big Bird, Big Ashaun, Little Ashaun, Dora, Diego, Plex and Brobie) had  informed you that they were sad at the hotel and wanted to sleep in your big boy bed. I think that while you had a great time, you are also glad to be home. I don't blame you. 

And that reminds me of another cute thing you have said a couple of times after we've kissed and hugged Daddy and said good bye to him in the morning. "Ava doesn't like it when Daddy goes to work." Yes, Ava, seems really torn up about it. So I had to explain to Ava that while I understood, and it would definitely be fun to play all day with Daddy, there were a lot of good reasons for him to go to work. Aw, you're such a little Daddy's boy, Bug.

I love you more than tongue can tell. 


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