Dear Marshall,
Here are some more stories about you.
- I love the way you say “Yeah!” You imbue it with so much enthusiasm. In a world overfull with apathy, a little eagerness is a joy to behold. Thanks in part to your example, I have been trying to say “Yes!” more often and put some oomph behind of it, instead of just saying “Sure.”
- While we miss some of your baby ways, we’re glad you’re getting old enough to help us out. You’re learning how to dress yourself. In fact, you usually insist that you be allowed to put your own clothes on. Sure, you put your pants on backwards sometimes, and your shirt upside-down, but you’ll get it right in time. You also helped me get the toys out of the way so I could vacuum the other day. Such displays of independence and helpfulness are good signs for the future.
- You recently found a box that was open at both ends. It was long and skinny, just wide enough to pull over your head and wear around your middle. You enjoyed that, and it was fun to watch, though I had to put an end to it when you started running recklessly (with your arms pinned to your sides by the box, you had no way to catch yourself if you fell!). Though using boxes as toys does require some caution, they are cheaper and more versatile playthings than most of the toys for sale at the store. In my experience, cats and kids tend to like best those toys that you can make at home for free.
- I’m happy to report that we have a new routine. Livia has never been one to sit still and listen to a story, but she’s starting to come around. One night I decided that you and I should read to her. It went well, so now you want to read to her every night, and at nap time, too. It’s funny how things go from impromptu to mandatory just like that! You like to preside over the event by holding the book and turning the pages. You “read” the story to her, with a little help from me. This role of big brother suits you well, and I’m extremely impressed by how much of the text of Hippos Go Berserk! you remember. You’ll be reading for real in no time.
I’m so proud of you, my enthusiastic, independent, helpful, fun-loving beginning-reader.
Yeah!
Love,
Mom
P.S. Your father cut some arm holes in the box, so now you can wear it safely. We call it your “armor.”