2 Years: Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

August will be two years and three months next week. He's happy and healthy and engaged and so charming! He's big, and he's growing so quickly; I think he must be even bigger than I was. But he doesn't seem to be the berzerk, overactive kid I always assumed I was, so... sorry, no karmic retribution! (At least not yet.) I think he looks like me a little, but everyone (including me) thinks he looks a lot like Mary.

We have another on the way too! And it's a girl. We hope it's a girl. The ultra-sound tech wouldn't commit to more than 90% chance of girl. But it better be girl, we've traded all of our favorite baby boy stuff for baby girl stuff!

August Watson Faulkner. In both his name and his initials we wanted to honor you, and if he had been born three hours or so earlier, he'd have had your birthday as well. Darn kid was late as it was—I think it was eight days—he might at least not have slept-in quite so long... you'd say he got that from me!

We may be "those parents"—can't see any flaws, magnify minor victories and average skills to the point of genius. But I don't think so. He has an active social life, so we see him with other kids all the time, and we know the ways in which he is special and different, and the ways in which he isn't. He has a lot to recommend him! I'll tell you some of it, hopefully not overdo it!

He's very engaged, not easily distracted. If there's an instructor, he's focused. If there's a book we're reading, he's focused. And he's patient. You know he got these from Mary, and not me! I think this bodes well for his academic career, which is starting this fall, if you can believe it. We were very happy that he was accepted into a really wonderful school, just up the street. You and Dad would love everything about this school, from the buildings to the curriculum to the instructors and the teaching philosophy. We might not have started him out so early, except he's definitely well-suited to group learning environments—and he loves it. He's pretty self-directed, and that meshes nicely with the school's teaching philosophy, so we reason he has a lot to gain from starting a bit early. And in this competitive environment, where space in the best schools is limited, it doesn't hurt to take acceptance when you can!

August is caring and affectionate and sweet. He gets a little shy around strangers. He has always taken a wonderful pride in personal accomplishment. He sets ambitious goals and works hard to accomplish them. He has always taken the time to briefly celebrate his victories, then move on to the next thing. Lately he's been rather more indulgent in celebrating his incremental advances on the playground; he'll climb to the top of the highest part of the jungle gym, stand up and announce with visible pride: "I did it!". Every little thing is "I did it!". Down the biggest, curliest slide by himself: "I did it!". Alone on the tire swing: "I did it!". Taking off his shoes and socks... you name it! I wonder what this says about his need/desire for independence, but I'm going to try not to over-analyze.

Lately, if he gets upset or fussy, I'm able to distract him away to a positive place very quickly. He might have been super angry or genuinely sad, crying as if he'd never stop, and all I have to do is ask: "Who is the boy who climbed all the way to the top of the highest part of the playground, all by himself?". He'll pause briefly to think about it, then an enormous, proud grin washes over his face, and he'll say "I did it!". Episode over. We love him so much!

He's at a stage where his language skills are improving daily—where he'll casually start using words we don't know how he discovered. He loves to experiment with his own voice. He'll say,

"Bokka bokka BOKka.... (noise).

"BOKKA BOKKA BOKKKKAAAAAAAAA! .... (loud).

"Loud noise. Sounds."

I really think he'd charm you to pieces. He charms everyone. Us most of all!

I thought you would be most gratified to see my life move in this direction. Back in July 2006, I thought it probably would, and I really wanted to tell you exactly what I envisioned and invite you to imagine it too, so that you could share it with me just a little bit. A little imagination, and you could pre-enjoy it all with me! But it wasn't certain, and anyway I wasn't ready, even then, to inwardly or outwardly acknowledge that you probably would not be here to witness it first hand.

When we watched the 4th of July fireworks over Portland from your window in the hospital, I knew I'd never be able to watch fireworks again without thinking about you. I hope you knew then that you'll never be forgotten by us, and that we'd miss you terribly, and wish that you could be around to watch this most recent chapter unfolding. Of the two portraits of you, I felt very fortunate to have inherited the one of you as a teenager... you had it hidden in a closet, for some reason! It hangs in our hallway near our bedroom doors. August has a cute habit of wishing everyone and everything "good night" as he is carried to bed at night. "Good night Daddy... good night Waddis (his name for Watson)... good night Baby Girl (his future sister)... good night hall, good night mirror... good night Nini." He doesn't know who you are yet, but he does knows you and, in his way, checks in with you daily. You won't be forgotten by him, either.

I think an awful lot about how you raised us, and how we're raising August, and what's the same and what's not. Some of the stuff we do and allow would probably horrify you! But I'm sure you could have said the same about your parents and you. And I know overall you'd be extremely happy with our parenting (especially Mary's). Linda is an amazing grandmother to August; you'd very much approve! And I know that you'd be overjoyed to see August with Paula; to know that she is able, willing, and eager to be August's Nani—that's what she's called around here. I know you would be very happy and relieved to know that August and his sister will still get to have two grandmothers in their lives.

"Good night, Nini", for now. I'll try to keep you posted, even though it's a sad job to take on! We love you, and we all miss you so very much.

Love,

Waldron