November 15, 2009 - Dear Ted,

Dear Ted,
Alex has suddenly fallen for stuffed animals.

I'm sure it's directly or indirectly due to your influence. You were with him at the hospital when he was born. And you were near him many of his first days at home. Most likely more importantly, you've been with me for as long as anyone can remember and you helped create my beliefs that stuffed animals are magical.

The first thing I bought my two sons was the same thing I buy all my friends' new kids: a stuffed animal. Max got Flip. Alex got Lentil.

Up until the past few days, Alex didn't show much interest in stuffed animals. Then I put Max's Moxi in the mirror and suddenly Alex has become attached to stuffed animals.

Thanks to you Ted. I'm happy to continue the tradition!

November 4, 209 - Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
Please sleep through the night. I'm tired and your mom is exhausted.

You go to sleep nursing on the couch about 7:30pm. Mama puts you in the crib about 8pm. About 8:30 you start to cry and mama either crawls into the crib with you or one of us brings you back to the couch. Within the hour, you're back in your crib sleeping alone. Two to three hours it starts again.

Most nights your mama ends up sleeping in the crib with you. Sometimes I find the two of you have joined your brother in his bed.

One night last week you slept four straight hours. That's a rarity.

I'm tired. She's exhausted.

Please, please, please sleep five hours?

November 4, 2009 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex, Today I decided that you are a walker. You walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, stopping and standing in the living room to say hi to me before continuing your walk to mama. You don't walk all the time or perhaps even most of the time. Today you proved you can walk when you want to.

October 28, 2009 - Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
You amaze me. You do everything we do. I go to put on your shoes and you insist on putting on your shoes. I try to help you drink water and you pull it out of my hand. You see Max drawing and you demand paper and crayon. I play baseball with Max and you crawl over and grab the ball or the bat. Mama hands you a tissue and says "Wipe your mocos" and you do. She's even gotten you to wipe your pene.

You're almost walking. You've taken at least 10 steps at a time. You were almost there a couple weeks ago and then you started feeling a bit lousy and your practicing slowed down. This week we got you one of those wooden walking toys and you do it over and over and over. After a few days of mom chasing you to help you get it unstuck, you started moving it on your own.

You are a determined little boy. Strong physically and strong willed. You know what you want and you go get it or demand that one of us gets it for you.

October 14, 2009 Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
Tonight during your bath you performed a couple of tricks that reminded me it's time to do give you an update on who you are.

The big new is that you are almost walking. For the past week or so, you take a few steps on your own before crashing into the couch, reaching out for one of us or simply sitting on the floor. Your record is about 10 steps. You also continuously stand up by yourself and stand in place.

For a few months you've been doing this Donald Duck impersonation. Hard to explain on the written page. Perhaps it's enough to say you make these quaking sounds. Tonight during your bath you were doing your impersonation on demand. I'd say, "Alex, do Donald Duck." And you would comply with your quaking. Mama came with video camera in hand when it was time to take you out. Unfortunately, by then you were quaked out. I thought I had my youtube viral video!

You also did a new trick tonight. You held onto the side of the tub and crouched all the way down to where just your neck and head were above water. Then you'd pop up smiling. You did this over and over and then suddenly stopped. This is when it became a trick rather than just a new move. I'd say "down" and point down and you'd go down. I'd say "up" and point up and up you'd go. We both laughed. (Again, where was that darn camera).

A favorite activity lately is to put things in and out. It could be a car into a box or a block into a can. You even marveled last night in the tub when I put your arm in and out of a long bucket. You've also become so animated. You've always been a happy boy: smiling, laughing and simply content.

Lately you've reached a new stage of marveling at the world and showing excitement about things. Perhaps perfectly explained by our visit to the zoo today. This seemed to be the first time you were excited about seeing all the animals and creatures. You held my finger and ran to the fish tanks. You stared at the monkeys in the tree. You pointed to the meerkats.

Your interaction with your brother has changed too as the two of you grow. Max is fiercely trying to discover his place in the world while you are still patiently waiting for things to come. Thus, he's more aggressive and you don't quite understand. One minute he'll pull toys out of your hands and insist everything his "mine." The next he'll say "I love Alex" and give you a hug -- sometimes too strong of a hug for your liking, but a definite hug. You patiently take it all.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into it. But I think the older/younger brother relationship is starting to form: Max is trying to learn to be the leader brother and you're trying to find something that interests you.

I so love you both!

October 5, 2009 Dear Jane Nelson

Dear Jane Nelson,
First, thanks for your book Positive Discipline. My wife and I just took a PD class and now I'm reading your book. It's a revelation. It's changing the way I interact with my children. And it's got me reflecting on my upbringing and making me confront why I am who I am and do what I do. I mean all of this in a good way!

I think this story explains your point about needing to figure out why someone does what they do rather than jump to conclusions.

Our three-year-old ran across the room and basically tackled his one-year-old brother. He laid on top of him and held him tight. All the why he was smiling and laughing. My wife and I reverted to what you'd call reptile brains and aggressively pulled Max off his brother.

We then violated all your rules and yelled at him, put him in his room and shut the door. The whole time he was smiling and laughing.

A few minutes later he came out of his room, still smiling and laughing, and said to his mama "Mama, wasn't that amazing!"

"What was so amazing," mama puzzingly asked.

"I was hugging Alex. You were hugging me. And papa was hugging all of us."

We learned our lesson.

We then gave Max a lesson on how to hug his brother.

September 25, 2009 Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
You took a step!
So want to see you grow up. So don't want to lose my little boy who crawls fast and make these cute little sounds.

You cry when Max gets out of the car for school.
I am so anxious for you two to get to a point where I can have time to myself. I so don't want you to be so independent that you don't need me.

You eat cereal and other foods with a spoon.
I'm so tired of sweeping the floor after every meal -- or more accurately, walking on food hours after every meal. I am so not ready for you to grow up so fast.

September 20, 2009 Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
Your growing up so fast.

The last few days you've started insisting to eat your breakfast cereal out of a bowl with a spoon. You grunt and point to my bowl and when I give you a spoonful you take it out of my hand and feed yourself. The food goes into your mouth, into your hair and onto your shirt. But you are happy.

You want to do whatever your brother does:


You've learned the secret of the magic mirror - that after bath time there is something hidden in there for Max. Now after bath you insist on opening up the mirror too.

You've also started brushing your own teeth: you put the brush in your mouth and you move it around.

You also are getting closer to walking. Today you stood on your own for what seemed like 15 seconds. You frequently stand up and with your hands on the couch or wall work your way around to where you want to go. When mama or I hold your hands you smile big as you walk.

Perhaps I imagined it or twisted my hearing, but I thought this week I hear you say dada.

Your relationship with your brother is remarkable. Of course there are times he pulls things out of your hands and you get upset. Mainly though the two of you hug and play like best friends. Max is mostly patient and carrying toward you. A couple days ago when he got out of the car for school he hugged and kissed you without me saying anything. He often brings you toys to make sure you are happy.

And you continue to be the accommodating brother and child. Frequently when Max takes your the toy you're playing with or when mama or I pull you down from where you're climbing, you make little resistance. I'm going to miss the baby you. And I can't wait to see the grown up you!

September 18, 2009 Dear Spirit World,

Dear Spirit World,

What you doing to me?

First all those strange connections with my dad and my family and now a connection to my friend Dave.

I met Dave when I was about 11 and we were on the same Trojan Youth Basketball team. One game Dave got the opening tip off, drove to the basket, shot and missed. I got the rebound, shot and - being the basketball star I was - scored. Trouble was, it was the wrong basket.

Dave died a few days ago. I went to Chicago on Thursday for the funeral.

On Friday at reading time, Max picked a book of silly poems to read. It's called "Oops" and he calls it "the poops book." It's a fairly long book. So when we read it I skip through at random and try to find the "age appropriate" poems.

The day after burrying my old friend, I randomly came across this poem that begins:

Foul Bawl by Alan Katz The score was tied. Dave passed the ball. I squeezed it with both hands I dribbled and then shot it high. A great hush filled the stands. The ball went in! Man, what a toss! The whole team blew a gasket! A perfect shot, except that it was our opponent's basket.

September 14, 2009 Dear Spirit World,

Dear Spirit World,
My dad didn't like magic or his father, never made points using symbols and as far as I know didn't believe in an afterlife -- all traits he passed on to me.

So why am I starting to wonder whether my dad from the great beyond used a novel about a magician to make peace with his own father and to show me he's connected to my children. Ordinarily I'd dismiss this as a strange coincidence. However, it's the third such strange coincidence so it's difficult for even an extreme skeptic like me to simply dismiss.

My dad died from complications due to a massive stroke. I left my wife and son in Nashville to rush to Arizona to be with my two brothers during what turned out to be his final few days. This was the first time I was away from my 10-month old son.

This is when coincidence Number 2 happened.

"I know you have a lot on your mind and I don't want to worry you because he's fine," my wife said on the phone. "Max had an accident. He has a black eye."

I didn't ask the obvious follow up questions like what happened? or how is he?

I just asked "Which eye?"

Thousands of miles away, my dad was hooked up to life support systems and one of the common results the doctors told us was his development of a black eye.

"The left eye," replied my surprised wife.

Same eye as my dad.

"When did it happen?" I followed up.

"This morning," she said again a bit surprised about my line of questioning.

"My dad developed a black eye this morning too," I said. "It's his left eye."

At that moment, it honestly did give me some comfort to take the black eye as some sort of a connection sign. Later I dismissed it thinking I was being just like the atheist in the foxhole who suddenly started praying to God.

Jump ahead about two-and-a-half years to last month.

I found myself in front of my bookshelf on my dad's birthday looking for a book to read. I also inherited a bit of my dad's habit of buying books simply to put them on my shelf. Thus, there were plenty of unread books that at one time interested me to choose from.

As I pondered, I glanced at a book my dad had given me more than a year before he died. I always thought it was strange that my dad had given me a novel about a magician when he loathed magic and magicians. I also thought it was strange how many times he asked me if I had read the book.

Another thing I inherited from my father was the tendency to not do things I was told to do -- especially things my father told me to do. My father didn't become a lawyer partially because his father was a lawyer. He also told with pride the story about how he left Arthur Andersen at lunch time on his first day because he didn't like all the corporate rules. Thus, I became a writer then coffee house owner instead of the lawyer my dad wanted to be. And I didn't tend to read the books he suggested.

Sometimes this habit served me well -- I'm much happier and likely wealthier than I would have been a lawyer.

Other times this stubbornness cost me, like when I didn't apply to be a basketball camp conselour or only after he died did I read and enjoy several of the books I took from his shelf.

Carter Beats the Devil sat on my shelf for at least three years. I picked it up simply because of the coincidence that I was looking for a book on my dad's birthday and this one my dad kept pushing on me was staring me in the face.

For some reason about 50 pages into it the thought came into my head that there was going to be something in this book my dad wanted me to know. My dad wasn't the deep conversationalist type. Thus, suggesting a movie, play or book with a point in it would be much more up his alley. This seemed to be the only explanation of why my dad -- who hated magic -- wanted me to read a novel about a magician. He frequently criticized his dad -- an amateur magician -- for resorting to magic tricks as a way to avoid talking to his children.

At about page 100, I scanned through the book to see if there was a letter hidden in it. I did find a scrap of paper which at first excited me then let me down when I unfolded the blank small torn sheet.

I decided to plunge through the book about page 150 despite not liking it (felt it was an over-researched historical soap opera novel).

About page 300 I started setting myself up for disappointment. "I don't believe in these things anyway," I said.

After I finished the book I was more disappointed that I wasted my time reading it than in not getting my sign from above.

Before putting it in the give away pile, I opened it once more.

This was a used book my dad must have bought at a library sale. It still had the library stickers on it and the check out card in it. I looked at the last date that it was checked out. The first thing I noticed was that the date stamp was a bit strange. Someone had written "/08" next to the date stamp. Then I read the stamped date and added part and was struck by the strangeness of it all.

Aug 23 2001 /08
(the first part done with a date stamp the "/08" written in pen.)

My dad died March 26, 2007.

He gave me the book more than a year before he died.

My second son was born August 23, 2008.

Coincidence #2 was the black eye - connecting my dad to my first son, Max.

Coincidence #3 was the book - connecting my dad to my second son, Alex.

Coincidence #1 was the birthday - my wife has the same birthday as my dad's mom (my grandma).

I don't believe in symbols and signs -- especially from the after life.

But this is so darn weird.

September 10, 2009

Dear Alex,
A quick update on what you're up to:

You started saying mama sometime between the week before you went to Chicago and a week after you returned. Your mama was convinced early that your mamamamama was indeed mama and not just sounds. Maybe it was a bit of jealousy that I wasn't convinced as early.

You also seem to say Max -- or we've all come to believe that ma is Max. And ba with pointing to the sky is bird.

You're a big eater. You eat all veggies, fruits, tofu, cereals, rice, goji berries pastas and anything else we give you.

You don't walk. You crawl fast.

You love attention. You're fine playing by yourself.

You love your brother. You want to play with him and snuggle with him.

August 31, 2009 Dear Dave,

Dear Dave, I just wanted you to know how you helped shape me as a parent.

You wrote me a note soon after missing my Chicago wedding shower. You said you were sorry, of course. More importantly you told me you forgot because you were too busy and having too much fun with your kids.

I think about that a lot. And I'll think about you lots when I'm too happily busy with my kids.

You taught me long before I had kids what it means to be a good dad.

I'll thank you forever for that!

August 26, 2009 Dear Child Therapists,

Dear Child Therapists,
My second son turned one a few days ago and I realized that no matter how much I think I'm raising him the same as his brother, his early experiences are very different.

This is normal and he'll turn out just fine, right?

On a simple level, now that there are two of the we simply don't have the time or -- admittedly -- the energy to give him everything his brother had. Alex is breast-feeding longer, sleeping worse and taking longer to walk than his brother. Perhaps this is because we haven't given Alex all the one-on-one and two-on-one attention his brother got. Perhaps we do more letting the two boys play with toys on the floor rather than take the time to hold Alex's hands as we walk him around the room. Perhaps the breast-feeding and non-sleeping-through-the-night is due to his need to have comfort at night rather than some of the chaos of our daily lives. I hate to admit some of the things that Max got that Alex hasn't got starting with his own decorated room (Alex's room doubles as a play room). Two of my favorite early memories of Max involve the planet mobile we put above his bed. I think it was the first time I clearly saw his instinctual curiosity come to the surface. Later, when I made the planets move, he smiled and I saw how he would enjoy the world. Alex hasn't got a mobile. I don't want this to sound like an apology or to make it seem like Alex is some sort of deprived child. I am an over-thinker so maybe I'm over-thinking this to.

Alex does get as much attention as we can give him and he is loved as much as his brother. All I'm trying to say is that his world has been different. I've also realized that there is no way we -- or anyone -- can raise their kids the same.

I also know that Alex has had experiences his brother never had and is advancing in some ways faster than his brother. Having an older brother has divided his parents attention which has allowed Alex to become more comfortable playing by himself than I remember Max being at this age. Alex is similarly more content with what comes his way than Max -- again, perhaps because he has learned that compromise and waiting is normal. (Then again, trying to remember what Max was like two years ago isn't as easy as one without kids would believe). This doesn't mean that Alex doesn't have desires and doesn't voice his wants and frustrations. He is very communicative and let's us know what he wants. He grunts, he points and he leans toward whatever it is he wants. He also seems to be a faster crawler, being able to go from being put down in one room to another room before I'm able to sit down and play with him.

As a second son, you'd think I'd be overly concerned that my second son would get everything his older brother got. I promise I try.

As a parent of two active boys, I do my best to give both my boys my best. Sometimes my best means getting them less stuff and giving them more time to themselves.


This is all okay, right?

August 23, 2009 Dear Village,

Dear Village,
If it takes a village to raise a child then we're living in the right place! Thanks to all our family and friends (those pictured and those not) for being here for us!

August 8, 2009 Dear X Boys,

Dear X Boys,
I was away from you both for almost a whole week. The time away gave me time to get some stuff done and gave me time to think about all sorts of stuff.

I flew up on Monday morning with you and helped you and mama get settled in at Grandma's. I flew out that night back to Nashville. I have to admit that part of this time away was intended for me to recharge the batteries. As much as I love you both, it's a lot of work juggling being a papa, running the stores and keeping track of all the real estate ventures going on.

Another big part of the week was for me to get a vasectomy. Your mama and I decided that the four of us are a complete family. We talked long before we got married that one or two children would be our limit. We're older parents. We believed then and now that two children is the perfect number. This gives us the time, energy and financial ability to provide for the two of you.

Another intent of the week was to give me time to catch up at work. Your mama and I also decided that we'd spend as much time as we possible could with the two of you. Luckily we both are in a job position that gives us this flexibility. Lately I've been struggling with keeping up at work. Thus, I used much of this week to clear some projects (and lots of papers) off my work desk. The results were positive. However, I missed you both (and your mama) lots.

The time away also gave me plenty of opportunities to reflect. Mostly I thought about how lucky I am to have such a family and such a life. Your mama is an incredible woman who would (and does) sacrifice anything and everything for the two of you. Admittedly there are times when there is some tension between us. However, these moments are limited and mainly caused by
everyday stresses. And the two of you are the best things in my life. When I play baseball with Max or just sit on the floor and play with Alex, I experience a joy that I've never felt. When either of you smiles or laughs I get this shiver and I want to explode and say: "Look at these boys! They're perfect."

Perhaps it was a mistake but the first thing I did when I got back to Nashville and an empty house was watch a documentary about a boy with bipolar disorder who eventually kills himself. I kept thinking of my boys and all the possible bad things that could happen to them. I cried.

And then the next day I had a vasectomy and then I spent the rest of the week thinking, working and sleeping a bit.

I love you boys so much.

I'm glad you'll be home soon.

July 29, 2009 Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
I fell in love with you tonight.

Of course I've loved you from the start. But just like your brother I needed a moment to hit me over the head to tell me that this little boy is my life.

Tonight you're sick. You got some sort of hive from crawling around on a rug. You were acting a bit strange. You couldn't sleep. You wrestled in mama's arms. You played. You were very uncomfortable. As much as we don't like to give you medicine, we gave you a bit of Benadryl.

Mama and I sat on the couch with you rotating between us. I held you. I looked into your eyes and I saw a look that scared the hell out of me and I knew then that I loved you.

You were absent.

Your charm. Your happy nature. Your curiosity. Everything about you was gone.

"Don't go," I said.

A minute later you were smiling and I breathed a bit easier.

Then I got the look again.

It's 1:46am. You've been in your crib a couple hours. Mama's upstairs asleep.

I'm awake checking on your breathing every so often.

July 8, 2009 Dear X Boys

Dear X Boys,
Don't be in such a hurry to grow up.

I started thinking about that this week. Alex is trying to do everything Max does. And Max is trying to do everything everybody else does. Even more telling, Max said to mama this week "Mama, are you sad that I'm growing up to be a big boy?"

I remember when I was about 12 writing in my journal something like "I want to grow up fast because the world is changing so quickly that I'm afraid I won't be able to do the things I dream of."

Thirty-something years later I'm writing to you both that it's okay to do it all slowly. Enjoy being a kid. These times that nothing is more important than throwing a baseball or learning to climb onto the couch go so fast.

Your mama and I are a bit bewildered about how fast it's all happening. We can barely remember when Alex was a newborn doing nothing but sleeping and eating all day. This doesn't mean we're sad to see you grow and develop. Each time one of you does something new (which is almost every day it seems) is a celebration.

We also dream of the future when you go to school, bring home friends, introduce us to your first girlfriends. Your mama especially sees a bit of each of you in any wonderful young person she meets. "Do you think our boys will be like that?" she'll ask. "Is that the type of girl you see the boys dating?"

Sometimes we question whether we should be sending Max off to full-time school at three-years old. Then we see the wonder in his eyes and the excitement he gets when he learns something new and we feel he's ready. We're not trying to push him to grow up. We're trying to let him be all he can be.

July 5, 2009 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex, It's about time I give you an update of who you are at this point. At 10 months you are a very active, happy and curious boy.

You've started doing what we call talking. While you're playing with something or looking at something you'll start vocalizing while you point, pound or sit still. Your voice will be full of inflections and we feel we can sorta make out what you're trying to tell us or what you're saying to your toys.

Your curiosity takes you everywhere. You pull books from the shelves. You crawl from room to room and under tables and over toys looking for whatever it is you hope to find.


You're very active and strong. You lift and push things that seem way too big for you. You don't sit still often, unless of course it is to push, pull or slap something of interest.

Of course, everything you touch pretty much has to be tasted as well. Thus, by the end of the day there is drool about everywhere.

You also eat lots of food. Edaname, corn on the cob and yogurt with peaches are your current favorites. (And you now have six teeth!)

You've recently started climbing. You pull yourself up on the hassock and then from there unto the couch.

Basically we can't keep our eyes off of you because of how cute you are and because we want to keep you safe!

June 24, 2009 Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
A few days after Father's Day and I'm thinking about you, your brother and these blogs. I'm not sure I ever explained to you why your blog is so different than your brothers.

Max's started by fluke. I wrote the story of his birth just for your mama and me. Then a few weeks later Max had his picture in the paper. The paper came out on a Tuesday -- the same day he was born. Thus, the idea of "Tuesdays with Max" (an obvious rip off of the book "Tuesdays with Morrie" was born. Writing his blog has become an obsession and a great way to look back on the week and at his development.

And then you came along. "Saturday's with Alex" just didn't have the same ring to it. I thought about merging Max's blog with yours and starting "The X Boys" or "My Two Sons" or something like that. Eventually you'll learn that I'm not the type to repeat myself. I can also be resistant to change. Thus, I decided on a new type of blog for you and to continue Max's blog.

I did make a couple changes. I added "and a bit about Alex" to Max's blog and "and Max" to yours. I know I need to do a better job specifically documenting your progress.

The idea of "Letters for Alex" was to have a way to tell you about you, me and those around us. Initially the blog was called "Letters to Alex." I changed it to "Letters for Alex" when I realized there was stuff I wanted you to know that was best told to others. Someday I suspect you will look at this blog like someone who finds a bunch of saved letters in an attic.

May 14, 2009 Dear Van Man,

Dear Van Man,

Thanks for stopping by a few days after you scared the hell out of me to apologize. I'm sure you had the right intentions when you stopped to tell Max to move away from the street. But you scared the hell out of me that day.

I never thought I was the paranoid type. But when you stopped, rolled down the window and said something to my three-year-old son I freaked out. I watched the whole thing from my side porch where I was putting away a stroller while Max played in the front yard. He never left my site for a second.

I saw your van stop.

I saw the window go down.

And I sprinted toward the van as it pulled away.

You stopped.

You explained that you were just trying to be nice by telling this small boy to get away form the street.

I said "you better have" and memorized your license plate number.

Later that evening I told my wife what happened. She thought it was important for me to call the police. They came by after our boys were sleeping. They assured me that it was most likely just as you said it was: someone trying to be helpful.

But I've seen the shows and my wife has produced the TV shows that have little kids disappearing in just these type incidents. So I freaked. And I held that feeling for a few days.

Then you came back a few days later and apologized and pointed out that you live just a few doors down the street. You told me you thought about the incident too and that you have a granddaughter and if you were in my position you'd likely have reacted even stronger.

I accept your apology.

I also accept my reaction.

And I feel bad that I don't know more of my neighbors.

May 23, 2009 Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
You're nine months old today. You're a happy boy who seems to want to grow up quickly -- to do whatever your brother is doing. You're crawling, you're using whatever you can find to stand up and you're constantly looking around to find your brother. You've also started taking baths with your brother -- and your mama or papa who hold you up.

Sometimes your mama and I think we had twins two years apart. You two look alike and play alike. Many nights or mornings you two wake up at the same time.

Of course, you also are your own person. You have a quick smile that lights up the room and you are determined to get what you want. The only time your brother gets a bit annoyed with you is when you take whatever he is playing with.




Video: May 10, 2009

May 1, 2009 Dear Therapist,

Dear Therapist,
I had another rough dream last night. Somehow I was laying down -- pinned down by a guy who had a knife at my back. Across the way was another guy with a knife pointed at my son Alex.

The guy next to me casually dropped his knife and I quickly picked it up. I figured the power turned.

"Go ahead and stab me," the guy says. "Then perhaps you can win a battle with the guy over there. Just think of this, though: he'll kill your kid before he does battle with you."

I froze.

"I know you think his (Alex's) life is more valuable than mine so I know you won't make a move."

So, what's this one mean?

Another protection dream, sure. But what was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? Of course I thought my kids' life was more valuable than this thug's. What does that say about me?

April 18, 2009 - Dear Dad - soccer

Dear Dad,
As I watched Max run around during his soccer game I thought of you. I know how much you liked watching me and my brothers play sports.

Now I get it.

There was something magical about seeing Max in his uniform, running up and down the field with a sense of pure joy made me tingle.

It's moments like this that I regret not being able to talk to you. I want to know what moments gave you that same kick. I want to know what you liked about being a dad, what you regret and what you feel when you see your grandson -- or me as a dad.

We never had conversations like these; that's another regret.

April 13, 2009 Dear Therapist,

Dear Therapist,
I had this scary dream.

Max and I were lost somewhere and a stranger offered to give us a ride. First, they took us to their club. There, we were wined and dined and eventually Max took off to play with the other children.

After awhile, I realized Max wasn't coming back. I tried to go to him but was stopped by a man.

"You can leave, he said. "But he's staying here."

Trying to get Max was useless. There was too many of them.

"I'm staying," I said.

"Don't do it for him," the man said. "In a week he won't remember you're his dad. In six months he won't recognize you at all."

I stayed.

I saw Max disappearing from me. I could see him from a distance. But he never looked at me.

One day, he was in a line of children and he was about to pass right by me without so much as a glance in my direction.

"I love this boy," I said repeating the phrase I say to him every night before he falls asleep.

He turned toward me and gave me a puzzled look.

So therapist, "What's it mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

I woke up about then with such mixed strong emotions. I was scared to lose my boys. And I was somewhat satisfied to know that despite him not even being three-years-old, there is an unbreakable connection. I felt like it meant that my boys will remember me no matter what.

Dear X-Boys, March 19, 2009

Dear X-Boys,
Today I closed the hatchback of my car on Max's hand. In one of those life turned into slow-motion moments, I saw Max's face as I closed the door and there was nothing I could do but look into his eyes and feel terrified about what I was about to do.

Being a parent is an incredible wonderful responsibility that continuously amazes, thrills and scares me. Max has learned to tell me that my job as papa is "to protect me." I promise to do the best I can.

Max's hand was fine (even after I spent much of the next hour at Bongo Java icing the wrong hand).

Yet the incident made me think about all the ways I influence you and all the stuff I want to protect you both from. I frequently have flash forwards of stuff that could happen to you: falls, hit by cars, kidnappings, etc. And in some more reflective moments I think about the mental stuff I want to protect you from as well. I don't need to list all my issues. Let's just say I want to protect you from those too.

March 13, 2009 - Dear X Boys,

Dear X Boys,
Your mom and I talked about lots of stuff before we got married: stuffs about how we wanted to live, how we wanted to raise children and what we wanted to do with our lives.

We knew we wanted you both to have a more creative and better school experience than at least I had.

We just never really expected to be putting our children in full-time, private school as early as three-years old.

However, today we wrote the check, signed the forms thus committing ourselves to sending Max to Montessori school this fall. We're darn excited about it and a bit overwhelmed with the responsibility. We visited two Montessori and one Walforf school before settling on Abintra. We looked at and debated such issues as location, foreign language programs and school diversity. We're not 100% convinced this school or even our decision to send him full-time is the best decision. We do feel good that we made an informed decision.

School bored me. My dad taught me to think through math and logic problems. My mom taught me to explore my creative side. Both taught me to do things myself. The lesson at school was to conform and memorize. I did just enough at school to get my B average. I was bored.

I'd love to feel good about putting you in local public schools. However, the more I look at these schools and the more I hear about this cray No Child Left Behind program, the more commited I am to finding something different for you. Children don't need to take tests and tests.

I know school can be so much more. I had one professor in college and one more recently who taught Spanish that got me excited about learning. They didn't simply lecture, hand us a textbook and give us a test. They challenged me and made it all interesting.

I want you both to be happy reaching your potential.

I want you both to have a life-long interest in learning.

I want you both to follow your own passion.

I want you both to be confident in wha you do and comfortable with your achievementsl.

I watch you both be so excited every day in your play, exploration and learning. I want this excitement to last forever.

I'm not 100% positive this is the right school or right program.

I am 100% pledged to finding what is right.