Letters to a growing boy…

And the letters to sustain me during NaBloPoMo continue. But the RT’s school photos arrived yesterday, so I’ve been staring at them and marveling at just how fast time goes by. Mind you, the photos came some time ago, and I thought it strange that I hadn’t seen them yet when he walked up with them last night, apologizing for forgetting to give them to me. They’d been in his backpack, where many a valuable possession has vanished into the depths of its blackness. Never to be seen until June. So I’m feeling fortunate that the photos have nary a scratch or bend.

Letters to You

November 13, 2007

My Dear RT,

When you were born, I started writing letters to you in a journal about your daily life. Although the letters were very nearly written each day in the beginning, by the last entry, written on your 8th birthday, they were very infrequent. Very soon, I’ll show you the journal so that you can read about growing up. And someday, it will be yours so that you might do the same for your child.

Here are some of the letters.

Thursday, May 12, 1994

You were almost two…

Your Dad took you to Grandma & Grandpa W’s house and measured you on Mother’s Day. You’re nearly 36″ tall and weigh about 30 lbs. (Is that right?) Anyway — that’s taller than we thought you’d be compared to your cousin when she was your age, and she’s tall!

You can count to 13 now! It’s pretty funny.

You’ve been throwing things way too much — at people, on the floor — everywhere.

Lots of whineyness in the early evening time around dinner. It’s hard when everyone has had a long day. We’re trying not to push the bottles just to see if you’ll forget about it during the day — preschool is just around the corner and the bottle won’t work. Diapers? Who knows? Changing yours is a complete chore. You kick & scream & twist & turn. It’s like some ridiculous game. Gramma did say today that she told you that you needed your pants changed & you walked right into the house to have it taken care of. You hear everything we say! This morning you were laying on the rug watching Barney & I made a comment to Gramma about your “poofy” hair and you looked at me and reached up to touch your hair.

I’m getting ready to leave you for nearly 8 days and I’m not looking forward to it. What I want is for summer to be here so I can be a mom for a change.

You’ll be big before I know it, D.
Not yet Two

Saturday, January 24, 1997

I see this book now, mostly when I dust & vacuum around the basket of books it keeps company with next to my bed. That’s pretty much where it’s been since we moved to this house when you were 6 mos. old. It seems so long ago now. You’re 4-1/2. You’re in the dining room playing your usual conditioned response breakfast games. Your dad is trying to guilt you into eating, but he is also singing the “Green Acres” theme song, so somehow I’m sure he’s not very threatening.

Thanks for climbing into bed with me for a while this morning and telling me about the rocket you built of Legos. You showed me how it flies, how it loses its boosters & leaves the capsule where the men are and then uses parachutes to bring it back to California where it lands. A lot to think about on a Saturday morning.

Yes, the Lego era has had a 2nd dawning. They’ve never quite been completely gone, but C & R have had them stashed under their bunk for a number of years. Now they show you how to build everything. But mostly things that fly. You’re pretty good at it yourself.

I make sure I get my squeezes & hugs & kisses from you as much as I can. It seems your “olderness” is right around the corner, D. You are very aware you are 4, but not 5 yet and tell me about it. I know you want to stay at Taproot School to become a “Palm” instead of going to another kindergarten. But you’ll have to make that change soon enough. Taproot stops after Kindergarten and then you must move on.

This should be a big year. Baseball? Soccer? Music Lessons? What are you interested in? What do you want to learn?

You found the plastic pink heart which stays in a dish on my dresser as you got up this morning & had a wistful, but puzzled look on your face as you rolled it in your fingers. “We still have Heart Baby’s heart. He still loves us, D,” I explain.

“He gone?”

“Yes, remember we lost him at the old Target?”

“But he didn’t go to the garbage. He went with a boy.”

“And he cares about that boy, but his heart will always be with us,” I finish.

You put the heart down and seemed content with the conversation we’ve had many times before.

Clown baby still goes to school with you every day, but it’s more of a ritual than a need. I’ll have to rescue him one of these days before he is misplaced.

I love you, D. You’ve grown up so very fast.

School Photos





9 responses to “Letters to a growing boy…”

  1. How awesome, special, SMART of you to write letters to you son. I wish wish wish I’d done that…my oldest is now 22 & I miss him a LOT…I also have a 13 old son & 14 year daughter & time is just zooming by…oh to be back in the Lego days & snugglin’ under the covers…they do grow up so fast. You touched something deep inside my mother’s heart today…

  2. I get the same feeling looking over photos of my daughters, both nearly grown now. My oldest has a child of her own, with another on the way, my youngest is at the height of teen aged broodiness, and seems far more distant from me than the 500 miles we live apart.

    As for my sons, I haven’t seen a recent photo in over a year, I’m sure they’re huge by now, and less like their father every day in some ways, but more in others. With any luck I’ll see them this coming summer, it’s been far too long, and it weighs on my spirit, even though I know that leaving was the right, best and only thing to do.

    O.K. Enough of the emotional dump. time to make coffee and check on that turkey stock on the stove.

  3. Hi Olga. It is one of the things I’m most proud of. Unfortunately, my two older boys only have a few pages I’ve written, and art and writing they’ve done. I was so young when I had them; what did I know? I think moms are so fortunate now when they have blogs and put down the daily ups and downs of their lives. I hope they find a way to save them as I have. It’s quite an investment. I’m glad I was able to bring a warm spot to your day.

    Hi Jerry — ah the complications of multi-level families and children now grown who you don’t get to spend enough time with. I surely know what you’re talking about. Not seeing a photo must be rough. And as much as your boys may be taking on other influences right now, I know that their connections to you will always be there. My two older boys have spent time with both their father and myself, but more with me. Regardless, as adults, I now see their father in slight movements, speech mannerisms, and attitudes. Good luck with that turkey broth. I should go to the store and get the ingredients for mine too, so I can freeze it. Next Thursday will be here before we know it!

  4. Oh Kelly. This is BEAUTIFUL.

    I love that photo of him with the hose. He was such a blonde baby. Completely platinum!!

    Great letter.

    I wish I had thought of something this creative to chart my son’s life.

  5. loripea

    Oh, he looks so much like my youngest RT when she was young. Big eys and blonde hair. They were/are so cute. She is still huggable and kissable, but it’s going, really fast. Time for some grand children…….

  6. Thanks meleah. I enjoyed doing it and wish I’d kept it up. You think I would have learned after having had two kids already. And yes, he was quite the blondie. By the time he was in Kindergarten it had already begun to turn brown unless he was out in the sun.

    Hey loripea! Yes, I’ve thought quite a bit that he looks like your youngest RT. It’s something about the nose and eyes, isn’t it? Is she keeping her journal still? She’ll love to look at those when she’s older. Make sure she doesn’t “lose” them. And no. No grand babies on my horizon. The two older ones would have to actually spend time with females occasionally for that to happen.

  7. Those are great! I write a letter every year to Little Boy on his birthday. And The Hub and I journaled for him about the first month or so. It’s sad how it seems to go by the wayside with time, but the writing is so great to read later!

  8. so cool – you kept one of those old-fangled paper blogs…

    I really enjoyed these letters – what a great idea to capture those observations for him


  9. Hey Chick — How great that you thought of it too! The MoH only wrote once in the RT’s journal because I asked him to while I was away. It was nice that he did it, but it was funny because I can tell he doesn’t like to write.

    Scott, you’re so funny! Old-fangled, indeed. I have a few myself, but they’re not exactly journals. I’ve never been very good at the discipline of that. They’re writer’s notebooks. Kind of like this thing, but not as full blown (of hot air). They’re ideas and observations I’d jot down. I don’t use them anymore because using a pencil and pen takes longer. Besides. I can barely read my own handwriting anymore. It used to be so nice…

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