Dear Tristan - 4 Years, 7 Months

Dear Tristan,

I will be so sad when you start pronouncing your Rs. You’ll ask me if I remember instead of ne-member and we’ll talk about rabbits instead of wabbits. You’ve gone through a growth spurt recently. So recently in fact that just over the last couple of days, I’ve been looking at you like I haven’t seen you for weeks. When did you get so tall? When did you lose that baby face and start looking more like a little boy?



I’ve put you into preschool five days a week so I can get some stuff done. We have major projects going on right now and I want to get them done before our summer vacation. I have to admit that I felt a little bit guilty about it, because I really love the days that we get to spend, just me and you, but there’s no point in you trailing behind me watching me paint the office or re-wall the attic. Although you don't mind just kinda' hanging out.

You do love you some preschool. You don’t care too much about the art and learning but you are all about snack, lunch and recess. See? It’s like you are in junior high already. You get smiley faces almost every time on your behavior chart at school. You’ve gotten yellow cards twice so far, once for not listening and once for calling the other kids babies because you were mad at them for something. I never heard what the “something” was, but I’m sure they deserved it, my sweet angel.



You and brother are getting along for longer periods of time. You are so grateful when you are playing together instead of having to defend yourself that you follow him around saying, “I love you, Connor” over and over again. If he’s not around to love on you though, there’s always the dog. She’s more than happy to let you throw your arms around her or use her as a pillow while you are watching TV. The cat, well, he's new around here so he's still learning about little boys.



You know the thing I love about you most of all though? Every day is the best day you’ve ever had. Everything you do is the most fun you’ve ever had. You've learned something at four that most people take a lifetime to learn. Be happy, be present. I hope you never forget it. I wish I could say I had that down but I don't. I know I can count on you to remind me though because when I ask you if you’ve had a good day you look at me with a smile that lights up the room and say, "Mama, today was the best day EVER.”
Then I look at you, and I know exactly what you mean.

I love you,

Mama

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 11 Months

Dear Tristan,
I'm not sure what you will remember of your summer vacation from 2010 so let me assure you, you were not bored. This Summer we've; gone swimming in a lake, took your first ride on a speedboat, gone fishing, swam in pools, had picnics, gone to the park, had playdates, gone to the movies, taken a music class, shot off fireworks, got a puppy, gone to museums, went swimming at a State Park, went to Monkey Joe's, went to splash parties, went to spray grounds, rode horses, went to a festival, played at Plaza Fiesta and a million other things that I can't list because after writing all of that, I had to go and take a quick nap it made me so tired.

So, just in case you only remember laying in front of the TV while Mommy folded laundry here are some pictures of the fun you've had this Summer.

You rode some stuff...

rode some more stuff...

and some more stuff...

went to the beach...

played in the rain...

played with fire...

went to the zoo...

met your cousins...


started to look more and more like a little boy...

You'll always be my little boy.
I love you,
Mama

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 8 Months

Dear Tristan,
When we went to the Matthews Sandy Feet Festival you were finally tall enough to ride some of the rides. We put you in the swings that spin in a circle and it was all I could do not to have a panic attack. You're so LITTLE. And so HIGH UP. And so FAR away from Mommy. What if you got scared and uncliped yourself. My legs were tense, coiled. Ready to run and catch if I needed to. I was suddenly thankful that Daddy's been running sprints at the gym. You didn't fall. You didn't unclip yourself. You didn't look nervous. Turns out the only one that was terrified was me. As usual.



You are so tall that on Wednesday when you went on a field trip with Connor's Pre-K class I noticed that you were as tall as about half of the class. Sadly, it means that it won't be long before I can no longer recycle Connor's clothes, passing them down to you. By the time that happens though, I'm sure you'll be just fine with having new clothes of your own. Or maybe you'll go through such a fast and furious spurt that we'll pass your clothes down to him. I'm sure he'll just LOVE that.



It's going to be an amazing Summer for you. You are finally tall enough to ride the rides and old enough to go all day without having to nap. That doesn't mean we can tolerate you in the evenings when you're run ragged and napless, but it's getting easier. We are going to start swimming lessons for you and I'm so excited that finally you will be old enough to take a class on your own instead of watching your brother on the sidelines. You've been watching brother do, whether it be swimming, gymnastics or trial karate classes. I can't wait for you to have a chance to develop your own talents. I can't wait to watch you shine.
I love you,
Ama

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 6 Months

Dear Tristan,
Where did my baby go? Just a few weeks ago you were snugly and cuddly and now all of a sudden you have turned into an independent three year old. For the past week you've been in more time outs than all of last month combined. At first I thought that you just weren't napping and that was the problem. But now this reluctance to listen happens whether or not you've had your siesta. I think maybe you are just testing the waters as you gain independence.
You've started whining my name. Instead of calling me Mama, you say, Ahma. And you say it about 100 times a day.


You've discovered how to change clothes and I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that this is a skill that you like to practice multiple times daily. You'll sneak upstairs and come back down wearing black dress pants and a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. With this comes your obsession with shoes but at least you don't give me grief when you are getting dressed in the morning.



You are testing the waters with the attitude as well. You are more likely to get angry or retaliate against your brother when he wrongs you and you've taken to snatching things from him, something you wouldn't have dared a few months ago. I think we've been soft on you since you were the littlest but now that you are starting some of the conflict, you've found that suddenly Mommy isn't as tolerant as she used to be. You don't like this, not one bit.



You are giving up the nap. Now you can skip nap without cranking up a whine-fest at 5pm. If I put you down though, you will still sleep, which is super for me because while you are ready to give up the nap, I'm not ready to give up the nap. Because you are still enough of a handful that I like having the occasional couple of hours to get some stuff done, like wash all of the clothes that you've been putting on all day.
I love you,
Ahma

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 4 Months

Dear Tristan,
Every night when I put you to bed, you demand three things. A story. A lullaby. Snuggle time. Since you have your big boy bed, either Mommy or Daddy can climb into bed with you, while you pretend to be falling asleep. When I get up to leave it starts an epic tantrum that lasts for approximately 10 seconds and then stops so you can ask, "Tomorrow, can we go ice skating?"

I thought that you might actually know what ice skating is, since you've seen a little segment on one of your TV shows about a kid that goes ice skating with his mom. Since there's a new ice rink about 15 minutes away, we decided that on Saturday, we would take you ice skating. You were pretty excited about it all the way there. You didn't mind waiting in line. You were excited to see the ice skates that you were going to wear. Then we put them on you and you refused to walk on them. After a few minutes you had your feet under you and were walking just fine as long as we were holding your hand. We watched the Zamboni clean the ice and then went to get onto the rink. I picked you up and put you on the ice, ushering you over to the wall. And after a month of begging to go ice skating you decided one thing. No way in hell were you getting onto that ice. You were doing pretty well too. You had your feet straight and your balance was superb. I really think that you probably could have skated without my help at all. But that didn't matter because you started screaming and clinging to me or Daddy so desperately that we knew there was no way that you were going to get out there. We tried a few more times but each time you acted like we were bringing you to certain death. So you settled for sitting on the sidelines with Daddy, eating Reeses cups and watching the skaters.

We've declared that next time we go out to do something as a family, it will be something that you can get into also. I know you love a Reeses cup, but I felt like you were cheated just a little bit. I will confess though, when we took off our skates you were running around not listening and I told you to sit still next to us or I was going to put your ice skates back on. You sat.

You still pitch a fit some days when I take you into school. But it's not nearly as big of a fit as you pitch when someone says the word nap to you. I have to say I definitely appreciate the irony of you having a flat out tantrum about how you don't want to nap, mostly because you are so exhausted that you find it necessary to sob over anything that doesn't go your way. Like the nap.

Your brother has figured this out and announces loudly on the way home from school that you're going to have to go home and take a nap because tormenting you is his favorite thing ever. I guess there isn't much to do in the car so you guys like to see who can make the other cry the loudest while Mommy is driving. Before you start feeling sorry for yourself though, you should know that you do your fair share of tormenting Connor. Mostly you completely ignore him causing him to have a screaming tantrum because he's trying to talk to you and you aren't listening to him. You just stare out the window with a smirk on your face. I've never had to pull the car over, but it's coming. I know it as surely as I know that you'll never ask me if you can go ice skating in the morning again.
I love you,
Mama

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 2 Months

Dear Tristan,
We kept talking about moving the chair that you love to sleep in. And we kept putting it off. This is mostly because we love sleep. You see, each morning you would get up from your bed at 6am, mutter to yourself for a few minutes and then get into your chair and sleep until precisely 7:15am. It's that extra hour and fifteen minutes that I didn't want to lose. I figured we've move the chair and you'd wake at 3am and start crying because it wasn't in your room then fall back asleep then wake again at 6am and not be able to go back to sleep. I pictured this happening until you were at least 16 or so.


But finally, one night before bed, I broke down the chair and moved it to the hallway. You came out of the bathroom from brushing your teeth and a look of horror crossed your face when you saw your chair in the hall. I explained that we were moving the chair downstairs and that it was still your chair, but you'd have to sit in it downstairs instead. Then Daddy came and whisked it away to the living room. You went and sat in the corner where your chair had been and started trying to stir up a tantrum, but then were quickly distracted by the lure of having a book read to you.

You went to sleep in your bed and you woke up at 7:15am. You did not seem to care a single bit that your chair was gone. All that ado for nothing. A few times later that week, I came into your room to find you sleeping on the floor in front of the door. That didn't last long though. You're smart so it didn't take long for you to determine that sleeping on the floor well... it sucks. Especially when you have a nice comfy big boy bed to sleep in. Lesson to myself: it's never as big of a deal as I make it out to bed. Thanks for teaching me that buddy.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 1 Month

Dear Tristan,

For your birthday last month we bought you a big boy bed. We didn't buy the rails when we bought the crib, so we had to special order them. Briefly when Mommy wrote the check for $178.00 we considered maybe just letting you sleep in your chair for the rest of your life. Oh you may read this later and think that's mean, but really, that's doing you a favor. You'd love nothing more. We hooked up your new bed with t-shirt sheets, new pillows and a comfy foam mattress topper so your 35 lbs didn't get kinked up when you were sleeping on it. We talked it up. We sang songs about it. The picture below demonstrates just how much you love it.

You are still crazy about your big brother, but he's not so nice to you. I think that might come with the little brother territory, but it does break my heart to hear you run after him so excited to see him only to be pushed away or have whatever toy you are holding taken away from you. You are very forgiving though. I guess you know what your Dad and I do... that under it all, your brother loves you dearly. You are his best friend.

You are finall getting used to the preschool routine. You have a clear preference for one of your teachers, but sometimes you like to have a little tantrum when I'm leaving just for show. I think you get over it pretty quickly and even enjoy yourself just a little bit because you're always smiling when I come to pick you up. You even jump on Connor full of hugs and love since you haven't seen him since the lunch room 45 minutes before.

You've grown an inch since June! That's a lot for a little guy! You can throw the crap out of a ball too. And catch! You actually like playing ball. Who knew? Now if you could just stop throwing them in the house? Thanks. I really liked that picture frame.

I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 3 Years Old!

Dear Tristan,

For your birthday this year, we got you something that you've never had before. Your very own birthday party. We felt like you were starting to get jipped, being the second child and all, so this year when you turned three years old. It was all about you. And you were all about that. You had your very own Iron Man balloon and your very own cake. Best of all, you got some of your very own presents. Presents that you were encouraged, but not forced to share with your brother.

For us, three is worst than the terrible twos. Or at least it was with your brother. I have no doubt that three is going to be worse for us with you than two was. This is because the day you turned three you started whining and you have not stopped yet. So much that even last night in your sleep you were whining.

Your present from us for your birthday was a big boy bed. No more sleeping on your converted crib on that hard old crib mattress for you. Now you have a comfy, cozy, bed complete with memory foam pad on top. Cush. Except you'd still rather sleep in your chair. I've considered removing the chair from your room, but that would be like taking away your blanket. I mean, I guess eventually you won't fit in your chair anymore, right? RIGHT?

You've started your second year of preschool at a brand new school. You cried the first two days that I dropped you off. You protested so loudly, in fact, that I could hear you screaming in the parking lot while standing next to my car. It was hard to drive away, but I'm glad that I did, because by the third drop off you went barreling into the class and throwing your arms around (one of) your teachers legs. Now... you love it. Except for the one time that teacher was out sick and you went running into the classroom and then froze like a deer in the headlights when you saw the sub. You saw your other teacher that is usually there, (you have two in the classroom), but weren't having any of that. There was some screaming that day too... but only for a little while.

I can't believe how charismatic you are. Maybe you whine a little bit, (HA!, a little bit...) but you sure know how to schmooze. I'm glad of this characteristic even more than your vocabulary, which is a match for any 5 year old on the playground... because because charismatic will serve you well, especially when you are drop dead gorgeous.
I love you like crazy,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 11 Months

Dear Tristan,

Right now as I'm writing this, you are upstairs in your room, talking very loudly to yourself about how you shouldn't be up there taking a nap. You are almost ready to give up the nap, but because I'm unwilling to part with it, you'll be put in your room for a mid afternoon siesta until you stop falling asleep while you are in there.

Last week we went to the beach. I went up to mow the grass for PaPaw, so we could have one last vacation before school started up. The first evening we were there, I got out the lawn mower and before I even had it started you were screaming. You weren't afraid of the mower at all, you were for some strange reason, suddenly afraid of bees. Specifically that bees were going to fly up your nose. You protected your nose by sticking both fingers into your nostrils as far as they would go and kept them there the entire time you were outside.

PaPaw's theory was that you were just trying to get attention, but I think it was more than that. I think you were actually afraid that bees would fly up your nose. I have no idea where you got this idea, or if maybe a gnat actually DID fly up your nose, but this phase definately put a damper on the "play in the backyard" portion of our trip. You weren't just crying about it... you were screaming hysterically and with both fingers shoved into your nose. It was just as incredibly funny as it wasn't.

Luckily there are no bees on the beach so you were fine there, frolicking in the surf with your brother. This trip was the first time that you didn't have to wear floaties, (at the sound) which allowed you to move around more freely. My efforts to teach you to swim were pointless as you had absolutely no interest in even being held by me in the water. You've never been dunked, but due to your healthy respect for the water, you rebel any depth higher than your tummy. Even if I'm holding you when that depth is reached.

In a few weeks you'll start at a brand new preschool. I have butterflies in my tummy for you and I can only hope that you love it. I know for sure that they will love you. Especially since there is no cat for you to chase around the classroom.

I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 10 Months

Dear Tristan,
Every day I see or hear you do something that I want to remember to blog in your monthly entry. There is so much that you do that simply amazes me. Of course, by the time I sit down to write an entry you are sleeping upstairs in your chair and not even a cup of iced coffee can jog my memory to recall all of the cuteness that is you.
I could write about your obsession with booboos and bandaids. Or how you torment your brother by taking something that's his and running for your life to hide behind my legs claiming that you had it first. I could mention the little bit of sass you are experimenting with, finding that calling Mommy and Daddy names lands you in time out, even if Cuckoo-Popper isn't really an insult. Maybe your obsession with bugs. Your fear of mosquitos, swimming pools, said bugs and sunscreen.


I could write an entire entry on how quickly you've potty trained, even staying dry through the night and naps. We've been bribing you with the jellybeans left over from Easter and now we've moved on to m&ms. For the first time in almost five years I can not remember the last time I changed a poopy diaper. If I wrote an entire entry on potty training you, it would certainly include the neurotic flushing process you go through. Before going potty, you flush. You pee. You flush. You poop. You flush. You wipe. You flush. You finish pooping. You flush. You wipe. You flush. And if it's not all gone down. You flush again. I've tried explaining to you that you only flush once and even tried to make you get on the potty and finish your business without flushing in between jobs, but you refuse to even sit on the potty with that filth in the bottom. I guess it can go on for another week or so just until you really get comfortable with it all. I'm so proud of you.


I probably would like to forget how you torment the cat, chasing him and roaring like a lion because you think it's hysterical to watch him panic. I could also forget the screaming tantrum that you throw when we put you down for bed, as you take a page from your brothers book, yelling, "I want to tell you something!", over and over again. I've fallen for it a couple of times and the thing that you want to tell me is the free association stream of consciousness that's running through your mind. Anything that keeps me from closing your door for bed.
I could probably also stand to forget how if you don't like something that you've been given for dinner, you spit it out. Onto your plate. Immediately. Chewed or not. It's gross and we can't seem to break you of it.

I probably should write about how when you get hungry you go and sit in your seat, patiently waiting for your dinner. You are on a mission and you are serious about it.
Your Dad and I often talk about how sneaky you are. We, of course, can tell when you have a piece of food from the table that's being hidden in your hands or a toy that's been tucked into your pants, but you think you are getting away with something. If you are quiet, you are definately up to something... or sleeping in your chair.
I love you more than Sun and Light,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 9 Months

Dear Tristan,
You poor little thing. In addition to having to watch Mommy spin and play with Connor five times a day to get his therapy done, (the 6th time is with Daddy), you have developed an obsession with bugs. Today alone, I've taken the broom from you four times because you saw a piece of fuzz on the floor and thought it might be a spider. Wednesday I flushed a spider down the toliet, "sending it to the beach" of course, and you talked about it for the rest of the day. You are fascinated and frightened all at once.



You walk around the house during the day peering under furniture and in the cracks of windows trying to find bugs. In this house, if you are really looking, you are going to find them. And you do.
You are getting a little bit jealous of your brother getting so much attention right now and I feel so bad for you. I try to let you help, but it turns into a brawl with the two of you fighting over whatever object we are working with. I try to give you some extra love in the evenings after your brother goes to bed and you don't seem to mind this at all.

We also have two days a week where your brother is in his preschool program and we get to spend those together, alone. The first hour you spend at the gym with me, but afterwards we have a whole two hours for you to do the fun stuff that you've missed out on being the second child. Each time you beg me to go to the grocery store so that you can push the little kids cart around the store. You are so good at it too! Your brother tries to run the cart into displays or see how fast he can run down the aisle with it, but you are a dilligent shopper. You stay on your side of the aisle and even stop and pull something off of the shelf, pretending to read the box and then throw it in the cart. You are disappointed when I put it back explaining that we don't need soda can covers or a box of eclairs, but I do let you pick out your own ice cream, a magical experience.

You are getting so big! I'm so glad that you are still small enough to fit into my lap, so in the evenings when I read, "Meet Diego" from your Dora the Explorer Storybook, for the 200th time, I can sit with your head next to mine and smell your sweet baby smell.
The blankie is your eternal friend. You love blankie. You talk to blankie. I know for sure if there was a fire in the house and there was one thing you could grab, it would be blankie. Blankie is also the one thing that you do not have to share. If your brother tries to take it from you and I appear in the room, he instantly drops it, knowing that punishment for taking Blankie is swift and sure. We feel like if there is any one thing in this house that is completely yours... it's Blankie... well... and maybe the chair in your room.

Oh, but you love to sleep in the chair in your room. Generally, you nap in your chair during the day and sleep in your bed at night. Many nights, even if we put you in the bed, you get up and move to the chair when you are done with the "I don't want to go to bed" protest. Some mornings though, when you wake up at 6am and your "I'm ready to get up", cries are ignored, you snuggle into your chair and allow us all another hour of blissful sleep.
You are starting to fight bedtime, standing at your door crying and sometimes falling asleep in front of it. When this happens you wake up, not sure where you are screaming in terror. You'd think there was a spider in your room.
I know I should be potty training you, but I keep putting it off. You like to pee in the potty, but still cry for a diaper if I insist that you poop on the pot. I'm not sure if I am putting it off because we have so much going on right now, or because once you are trained, our baby is growing up. It's so hard to let go.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan 2 Years, 8 Months

Dear Tristan,
Today was the last day of your first year of preschool. You loved going and playing with your friends, even if it took you the five months to stop crying when I dropped you off. Oh no, I don't think it was that you didn't like school... I think you just wanted me to stay and hang out with you while you were there.



A few weeks ago, we were walking into the school and a little girl that I've never met said, "THERE'S TRISTAN!" to her Mommy. Another little girl, quickly turned around and said, "Hiiii Triistaann!" with a look so coy I felt a pang of pity for her parents when she hits high school. You stopped and beamed at both girls and then went on about your business. Your business being project: chase brother to the classroom. The ladies love you. You loved your teacher and so did we. It makes me sad to know that we are finished for the Summer. Next year you are going to a different school, with a new set of teachers and I'm nervous already.


You and your brother are still fighting as always, but you still can not bear to be apart. When I put him into his room for time out, you inevitably end up closed up in yours because you keep trying to let him out. I try to explain that he's in there for beating on you and that he has to finish his time, but you don't understand crime and punishment yet.
You've gotten tall quickly and introduce yourself to perfect stangers as either Batman or Ironman. You are starting to speak so clearly that even people that don't hang out with 2 year olds all day can understand you. I'm very proud of your verbal skills.


Holy crap you are smart. I mean SMART. Now your brother is no dummy so I guess being the second child, you get that second child advantage. The other day your brother pulled a shirt out of his drawer and laid it across his chest so you couldn't see the picture on the front. "Guess what this shirt is, Tristan!", he exclaimed. You tossed him a look over your shoulder and said, "Clean." and went on your way. Glad to know you got the smart-ass gene.
We are going to have a fantastic Summer. With all of our beach trips and the Summer fun we've planned I'm almost sad that you probably won't have any memories of it. Not to worry, love. I'll take lots of pictures.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Connor & Tristan - 4 yrs, 2 mo & 2 yrs, 3 mos

Dear Connor and Tristan,
As Christmas time approaches fast and furious, we prepare for the chimney descent of The Man in the Red Suit. I'm not sure that either of you quite understand the Santa ritual, although there are lots of questions from Connor about how Santa is going to get past the dragon in our fireplace, (I had to tell them SOMETHING to keep them from opening the fireplace doors) and how will he know he's not a bad pirate and not beat him up.
I explain about The Sleigh Bell Early Detection System and that there's not really a dragon in the fireplace. I explain about Santa leaving gifts for you both, but I'm not sure Connor's buying it. You've sat in Santa's lap already and received a letter in the mail from Sir Jolly himself, but I think the concept is just too abstract.


This Christmas is SO much better than last Christmas. Last Christmas there was no income and after a year of stress, it all became quite existential to me. I went through the motions more of an observer than a participant. I'm not sure either of you noticed at all, but in retrospect, how could you not have felt at least the slightest residue of panic or a wisp of despair. Maybe you weren't able to put it into words, but certainly you noticed the elephant that wasn't just hanging out in, but had taken up residence in every place meant for Christmas cheer.


You're Dad and I are hoping that this year will be far more magical for you both.
You both have done extremely well with the Christmas tree in the living room, not breaking any ornaments or unwrapping any presents underneath. Tristan, you just came over to me, baffled because you had somehow managed to get the hook from a glass ornament stuck between your bottom two teeth and couldn't get the ornament back out. I removed it with no injury and am hoping that you'll only do that once.



Connor, you've been allowed to plug the tree in, something that breaks our very strict rule of no children touching plugs and the the first time you did it, it was probably more exciting to you than seeing an elf.



The two of you love to play any game that invovles pretend monsters, you both love art, especially painting and computer games. I think as soon as little brother has the dexterity to operate a mouse, he'll be a computer prodigy all from watching big brother play on the computer. We try to teach the proper names for the elements that you both see on screen. For example, you both know what a link is and that the top bar of the page is called a title bar.



The two of you seem to be playing more and fighting less. There is so much fighting that it's hard to believe that there could have ever been more. But finally we've increased the threshhold of threats so that it's not worth losing dessert over. Plus, now that Tristan's speech is coming online a little bit clearer, communication with Connor is easier so it's easier for you both to make up games to play together. Now the only problem is that you both gang up on Mommy and Daddy or combine your efforts at sneakiness. That's ok though, we need the practice for when you both are teenagers.
I love you,
Mommy