Letter to Future Jameson

My Dear Jameson,

You are such a character. You are such a feisty and excited little guy.

Your delights have no end. Books are thrilling, even when being ready to you in a monotone voice by a parent grown tired from reading the same book over and over. Your brother lightly hitting you with pillows—fantastic!! Mama coming home from work—your little body explodes with excitement! Yogurt—yum! Yay, yogurt! Going outside to play? Wooohoooo!!! Going to the basement?? Grunts of delight!

You love with an intensity that makes me in awe of being one of the objects of your affection. Sometimes it may seem like I'm a little weary of your overwhelming love, but mainly it is because I just wanted to be able to leave the room for a glass of water and come right back without listening to your cries of distress. And your love isn't limited to just your family; you are also ferociously attached to Torrie the lion and your blanket. We peak in at bedtime and see you wrapped up, just so, in your blanket and holding and kissing Torrie. (someday, may you learn to kiss Torrie without biting him, before his nose completely disappears!)

You want, so much, to be a big boy like your brother. And we try to create a world at home that allows you to explore to your heart's content… safe toys and cabinet locks and all the parenting safety measures. Little Jameson, we try so hard to make your world one that is right for you and your development level. But there are still times when your need to explore doesn’t match your body’s coordination or your brain’s ability to follow instructions.


You want, with fierce determination, to sit at the table at dinner, just like Alex. But when you bang your cup (enough to create dents!) and stand up on your chair to reach Daddy’s knife and try to lean all the way over the table to get Alex’s water cup, we have to stop you. We just do. And then, the frustration comes out strong. Tantrums and tears, tears and tantrums. (when, oh when, will we have a quiet dinner, composed only of eating and normal conversation?)

After bath, you run around the house, tapping your chest, delighted in the freedom of being naked and free!! But as I move you to your bedroom to get you into pajamas, your happy world crashes to a halt. Oh, the shouts and crying and stiff toddler body!! And ninety seconds later, enroute to the kitchen to get your nightly bottle, you giggle in anticipation. How is it, Jameson, that you go through so many ups and downs in one day?

And why is it that you must pull try to pull things out of the refrigerator every time we open it?? The salad dressings are always there… why is it so exciting to pull them out and go running off with them? What is there to be gained from banging the mustard on the floor? My sweet mess-maker, why is it exciting to pull the kitchen towels off of the rack, wave them around, and dump them on the floor? Why do you resist the changing of a dirty diaper? Surely we are not torturing you by keeping your backside clean, are we?

We adore you, we truly do. But sometimes, we look forward to a time, not long from now, when your toddler angst lifts a little. When the dreaded tantrums don’t come quite as often.

However, since that means we won’t see quite so many of your sweet and genuine expressions of joy, we’re willing to put it off.

For a little while, at least.

Because you sure are cute.

Love, Mama