My Love Letter to my Kids
Zoe, you are my little girl and you'll always be my little Z-Bear. I like the way you worry me with your coochie-tickling, table-dancing, clothes-baring wild side, and I'm sure you'll make all the right choices in life later. Just make all your mistakes now. I like the way you let me dance with you, holding letting me hold your dance and prance around to whatever song catches me in the mood. You never tell me I'm a bad dancer, you just let me lead you like I was your special guy. I like the way you picked up words so quickly, and especially the way you say certain words, like App Ple Juice and everything's either Mommy or Daddy. Today you even picked up what doggy says, you smart little dot. I like the way you emphatize already, so much so that sometimes even the softer music will make you feel sad. Tonight a snowman melted on Kipper and I watched your face turn from neutral to sadness, and it took me a while to comfort you. I told you that's just what snowmen do. They come back later and they don't really mind.
The way you laugh is infectious, like a cross between sublime happiness dashed with a deep little perverse chuckle. You enjoy attention a lot and you're also quite the stunt person. You'll enjoy being tossed in the air, roughed around, and flying every which way. You climb. A lot. And you fall and cry too. A lot. I like the way you have conversations with yourself, and the way you show so much affection sometimes. With a nice hug, with blowing kisses. I like your curious eyebrows, and the way you eyes open up when you're trying to open up. I like how you get attached to Kitty, and Cow, and almost any Plush animal that's cute enough to hold. I like how you want to sit on my lap while I'm on the computer, and then when you're up, you systematically destroy everything on my desk. I like the way you try to defy your parents, like the time we said, "No!" which made you stop dead in your tracks. And then a beat. And then you took one little step while still looking at us. I like the way you run when you're being caught red-handed. You just drop the item you're not supposed to have and take off. I love so many things about you, I can't list it all. I love the Zoe.
And I love my son, too. The little boy who has learned the art of the pratfall. Tonight when I blew on you and you faked an elaborate fall, boy, that made me so proud. I like to look at you, because sometimes it seems as if I'm looking at myself, my own childhood. I wanna be the best damn dad for you, and I want you to have all the love from a father that was missing in my life. I like the way you sing, although it's not that often, but it makes me smile. The way you still haven't told the difference between punishment and playtime sometimes, which drives Mommy crazy when you're in a time-out and you're singing and making funny faces. I like the way you recognize remorse now, though in a lesser extent, when you've accidently hurt me or Zoe while playing. You come to me and kiss me and give me a hug. I like the way you sometimes are a good big brother to your little sister. Making her laugh, giving her the juice first, or just playing with her. I like the way you mimic me, whether it's in action, or when I say, "Damnit!" and you echo that right after me.
I like your jokes. They surprise me a lot and they brighten up my day whenever you share a joke. Your laugh is contagious, laced with a little more sadism than I'd prefer, but that's okay. I like the way you try to learn so much, the way you study things and memorize things during times I don't expect you to. Like the time you said faked a scream during the opening credits of The Simpsons, right before Homer screams as Marge almost runs over him. Or the time you said, "Oops." right before Kipper falls out of his basket. I like your focus, and your attention to detail. I like the way you pick your orange pieces up, like tonight. You picked a piece from the plate, shook it to get the errant juices off, and then picked off the loose pieces before putting it in your mouth. I like the way you line up your gramham cracker bears. And the way you simply cannot continue on when your hand is dirty. I think that's really cute. Your future wife may have something else to say about it, but that's not for me to worry about. And I like the way you let me make you laugh. Tucking you in, having that last conversation as I walk down the stairs saying, "Night, night." to you and having you say "Night, night" back until I'm all the way downstairs.
I love my kids.
