Dear TJ, It is late on Monday night, May 7th, 2012. It has been quite some time since I've written one of these. I figured, with everything going on, I was due. A couple of days ago, we celebrated your 3rd Birthday. Actually, you turned the ripe old age of 3 on April 24th but we waited until your Grandparents were in town from Idaho to throw you a party. You had a great time. Race cars, trains, airplanes, oh my! Well. What can I say? Your little sister will be born soon. In about 36 hours. Your mother has a scheduled C-Section at noon on May 9th. As much as I hear all the stories about midnight trips to the hospital, last minute phone calls to family members and hastily packed overnight bags, our situation doesn't seem odd to me. We knew exactly when you would be born. We know when your sister will be born as well. Please note that I say this with complete knowledge that I am, in fact, the one NOT being cut open, but I rather like this method of bringing a child into the world. I like knowing when the baby will come. When we had you, we showed up at the hospital at 10am, signed some papers, hooked your mother up to some tubes, and took you out at exactly 12:01pm. That is a hair over two hours... I've had oil changes that have taken longer than that. Again, I know, I'm not the one under the knife, but I think your mother agrees that it's not so bad considering the other method of getting you out. Also, her parents (your grandparents) were able to travel from Idaho and be here. This was very important to us. They didn't have to buy a last minute plane ticket to come see you after you were born. They got to sneak into your room minutes after you were born and meet you. Now, they are here again. For your birthday party. For your sister. I was watching TV last night and your mother came into the room and grabbed a book off the book self. She giggled and held up "What to Expect the First Year". She told me that it is occurring to her that she has forgotten almost everything involving the care of an infant. She's right. In the last three years, we've forgotten just about everything. One of the wonders of childhood is that there is always something new for you to discover. As you discover it, so do we. We have only so much room in our memories to hold the old stuff. We're just trying to keep up with you. Will it come back to us with your sister? I'm certain most of it will. But I suppose, as I sit here late on this Monday night, it is worth a moment to pause and reflect what I have learned. What I have remembered. What I am carrying with me into this second round. I have learned a lot about crying. I have learned there are different cries. You have a frustrated cry. When I hear this, I have learned to assist and encourage you. You have a tired cry. When I hear this, it is time for bed. You have a tantrum cry. When I hear this, I ignore you and give you no energy at all. No positive or negative energy. You have a hurt/scared cry. When I hear this, I run as fast as I can to you. I have learned that a large part of successful parenting is redirection. You attention span is still about 3 minutes on the high end. I need to use this to my advantage. I have learned that your car seat (when you aren't in it) is a fantastic tool for safely carrying a six pack or a Growler of beer home from the local brewery. I have learned that single parents are rock stars. I don't know how they do it. They have my a full helping of my respect and adoration. Kat and I often have what we call "tap outs" when we need our partner to take over for a bit because we've run out of whatever it is that makes up parenting. I have learned that there is not one sound on this earth better than the pitter patter of your feet running on our hard wood floor. Not one. I have learned (actually I just learned this tonight) that I should ALWAYS make time to read a book with you. I should never be too busy to show you the wonders that reading can give you. We made you deal tonight; you could watch one more Disney show before bedtime, but you wouldn't be able to read a book. In hindsight, the whole "you can watch more TV if you read less" deal seems terrible, I know, but I am being honest here. You watched your show, I took you to bed. We cuddled and talked for a little while. Then I got up to leave and you said you wanted to read a book. I said we didn't have time. You grabbed my hand and pulled me toward you. You said, "I've got you daddy. I've got you and I'll never let you go." I laid back down, we talked some more and then I left. We didn't read that book. Shame on me. We will always have time to read from now on. Always. I've learned that parents make lots of mistakes and that children are incredibly forgiving. I have learned that, despite what medical science may say about this, kissing your injuries actually does make them feel better. But here is what I still haven't learned... I haven't figured out a way to describe parenthood adequately to someone who doesn't have children. I can't find the words to convey what this feels like. Words are important to me and it drives me insane to not be able to express this feeling. The closest I have is this: I tell them to picture a room. That room is deep, deep inside of them and in that room is the greatest love they could ever feel. Once they are there, I tell them to turn around and look over their shoulder. I tell them they have noticed another door leading out of that room, deeper inside of them that they didn't even know was there. A door they didn't even know was possible to exist. That door is where the love of your child is. TJ, this is the closest I can get to telling you how I feel about you. On Wednesday, I'm going to turn around again and there will be yet another door. I'm going to open it and I'm going to find your sister. I'm going to use all these things that I've learned from you. I want to take this time, right now, and thank you for that. There is still so much I don't know. What is the mark of a life well lived? How do we become truly happy inside? Am I where I'm supposed to be? How do we get you to eat vegetables? These are questions I think we all struggle with from time to time. Maybe there are no answers. Maybe we just do the best we can. No. I really believe there is an answer for everything. I'm going to continue to search. All I have so far, I put in these letters and I suppose that is a good start. But I'll tell you this. I know who I want with me while I search: You. Your mother. Your sister. Let's go on this adventure together. My oh my, what will the world hold for us? How can we not be excited if we take just one moment out of our busy lives to dream and to hope? To wonder what is around the next corner? I have come to the realization that the more we share, the happier we are. Humans are social creatures. We want to share our experiences. Just ask Mark Zuckerberg. To have a family that I can share all of these hopes and dreams with is quite certainly the greatest gift of all. Life... Well I suppose this is what I have learned: Life is a team sport. On Wednesday we will become a team of 4. 5 if you count the dog, and I suppose we should. He is quite a bit faster than all of us and has a pretty good vertical. Love, Daddy
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