April 27, 2010 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
Once again I feel like I've fallen behind on your blog. Life is busy that way. Perhaps I should have created a weekly blog for you like your brother. That format forces me to do the updates. (I shouldn't say "forces" because I enjoy this!).

So who are you at 20 months?

You're this incredible being.

Today mama and I marveled at your ingenuity. You made it clear you wanted the keys we keep on the fireplace mantle. I gave them to you and then you proceeded to move the ottoman next to the door so you could stand on it and try to put the key in the lock.

How do you know to do these things?

How do you know in the mornings to bring me my shoes or Max's shoes or find your own shoes?

You've discovered the patterns of life and our way of being and you've not only fit in you've proved your ready for the next lesson.

"Remind me that The Twos don't last forever," mama said to me yesterday.

You're not a Terrible Two at Twenty Months. But you are a determined little boy who won't let his youngest-in-the-family status get in the way of whatever you want.

And you're also this incredibly cuddly kid. I love seeing you light up when mama brings you to my work or when I come home. Your big blue eyes sparkle at moments like that. And I know it doesn't sound good, but I love it when you get a bit scared and you reach for my hand or reach your hands high in the air asking me to pick you up. I know how to make you laugh. Even when you're crying this little trick works. I pick you up and put your belly on my head. Not sure what it does for you. But you laugh every time.

Your brother loves to cuddle you too. Max is so protective and caring for you it's incredible. Sitters all comment on how Max comes to your side if you show any fuss. "It's okay Alex," he says mimicking what I say to you both in times of comfort.

Your determination also is apparent as you learn everything. You understand everything in English and Spanish. Your speaking more and more words and even saying a few phrases. You say "mama, papa, Max, bubbles, agua" and others. Remarkably you also say "aqua de coco." Most exciting to mama you say "mama amo."

You've also shown us that you know French. Julie has spent about an hour with you four times or so. Already you're showing us that you understand what she says.

You're amazing. That's who you are!

March 27, 2009 - Dear Dad,

Dear Dad, You've missed three of the best years of my life.

You met Max. But you never got to see him walk, run or dribble a basketball. You never got to hear him say your name, ask you to read him a book or show you his silly self.

Max is almost four now. He's an amazing kid; you'd love him. He is very athletic, loves books and has a sense of humor. I'm thinking that'd be your big three.

He also loves to learn. He's adventurous. And he has his own opinions about everything.

I think of you often when I'm with Max. I've played some card games with him. He seems to love matching the numbers, determining which are better and figuring out the suits. He also likes numbers of other kinds. Once he was counting I had him adding and subtracting. You'd be proud of him -- and surprised at me for continuing your tradition of "math games" with him. And you'd have gotten a big kick out of when he asked me where I learned to juggle and without thinking I replied "The Orient."

You never did meet Alex.

You never got to see his big blue eyes light up when you play with him. You never got to feel him cuddle up next to you. And you never got to see him imitate is big brother in whatever he's doing.

He was born a couple weeks after your birthday and sometimes I think he looks like you. Other times I think I'm just exaggerating.

I think Max looks more like me but I find that I look more for myself in Alex because he's the second brother. Sometime I think I over-react on his side when Max takes his toys, invades is space or otherwise pushes him around.

Alex looks like Max, seems to have similar interests and loves his brother dearly -- just as Max loves him. Alex wants to do everything Max does: Max gets up from the table, Alex wants out. Max takes a book for a ride in the care, Alex gets a book. Max poops on the toilet, Alex pulls at his pants. Alex is just as athletic, curious and determined as Max.

As much as Alex naturally loves and imitates his big brother, he becomes his own person when he's away from him. He seems to just be a bit more carefree -- or maybe I'm exaggerating again, trying to see myself in him; trying to see him get a chance to get out of the big brother shadow.

I never got to ask you about being a father. I know I avoided telling you how I felt about you as a dad. But that's a whole other blog entry perhaps I'll do some day. I do wonder what you liked about being a dad. What you wanted for us. What you thought you did well. What you'd wanna do over. And a whole bunch more questions.

Fatherhood is as they say: the hardest job I'll ever love.

Not having a father is hard too.

March 23, 2010 - Dear Mama,

Dear Mama,
Our boys are growing up.

Over the weekend you were away, I found myself just staring at Alex and seeing our little one slowly grow into a man. I know he's only 19 months old today, but he's more of a little boy than a baby. He's quickly finding his own way and learning to navigate this world.

I know what's hitting you is the end of breast feeding. I can't imagine what sort of a connection that gave you with both our boys.

What's hitting me is that he's becoming more independent in other ways. He walks. And over the weekend I swear he was talking to Max and I -- or at least he was telling us that he's going to be talking very soon. He goes off and plays by himself. He demands things. He has wants beyond just food and diaper changes.

The weekend as single parent was hard but so much fun too. I even got to spend time with each of them alone. Friday, Max took a nap after playing at the zoo with Leslie and Clay. Thus, Alex and I got to have dinner together. He played with a ball on the deck while I grilled. And then with the weather so nice we at outside. The whole thing reminded me of when Max was a baby and he and I would go outside on the deck every morning to listen and watch the birds and squirrels.

I remember way back when I was a restless teenager and wrote that I wanted to grow up quickly because the world was changing so fast that I might not be able to do all the things I dreamed of.

And more recently I remember hoping for the days my boys were a bit older so I could selfishly have more time for myself.

Then this weekend Max was off in his world watching his TV show and Alex was playing a game only he understood walking around the house picking up various toys and moving them to what seemed like random places, it hit me like middle-age hit me:

Slow down!

We're all growing up so fast. I I barely remember my teenage angst and I hardly remember holding my babies.

I know I'm over-reacting. Max is not even four and Alex is less than half that.

I miss my babies.

And I'm so excited to see how they, us and all this turns out!

March 20, 2010 - Dear X Boys,

Dear X Boys, Playing single dad this weekend made me realize how much I love you guys.

I know I'm far from perfect: I check e-mail too often, I get distracted by who and what is around me, today I made a bigger deal about Max's poop accident than I should have and I sometimes don't stand up strong enough to Max for Alex.

But I know I'm doing my best for you two.

It's an incredible gift I have that I can spend as much time as I can with you both. Without thinking about it, I've created a business that affords me such flexibility and freedom. I know I complain sometimes that I can't get my work done.

But the darn truth is that enough always seems to get done.

March 8, 2009 Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
You've expanded your vocabulary a bit. You now say "agua," your first spanish word and "boo boo" as in hurt finger.

March 2, 2010 - Dear Alex,

Dear Alex,
A quick update...

Max and I think we heard you say duck yesterday. For some reason you love ducks. For awhile you were imitating Donald Duck.

Recently you got a duck with hearts for Valentines Day that you hugged all night and then a few weeks later you got a pirate duck, which you also held onto like it was the best thing in the world.

Your sleeping routine has changed a bit. After bath we try to give you a snack: apple, pear, or similar. You still fall asleep feeding. Now after a several weeks of sleeping with Max, we're back to putting you in the crib. You wake up. I pick you up and take you for some water. After you drink, you're ready for resuming sleep. You usually crash as soon as I lie you down.

Sometimes I put you on the couch while I play online poker or watch TV (like the other night when we watched a tape delay of the gold medal Olympic hockey game). Other times it's right to the crib. Tonight actually you ended up back in bed with Max; it was the only way I was getting you to sleep.

And for some reason, Max has decided to start joining you for bath time. Before he would watch a cartoon while you bathed. Now he jumps in soon after you.

You are so anxious to learn and to do stuff. You remind me of me in that sense. Mama reported today that you follow her around the house helping to put away dirty clothes, wipe up spills or put away some dishes. When Max is around, you do what he does. I feel closer to you lately.

We seem to spend more time together and you seem to be more willing to go for me when you need comforting rather than just mama. Of course, this makes me melt.

February 9, 2010 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
You started saying "papa." You've said it before. But now you say it all the time when you want me, when I come home or whenever. Somehow you found a way to get me to love you even more!

February 2, 2010 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
Tonight Michele and Collier were amazed by how you play with Legos. They marveled at your hand-eye coordination and your concentration.

"Kids this age don't do that, " she said.

I marvel at you and your brother every day.

I know so little about what kids are supposed to do and not do that perhaps my marveling is justified!

January 14, 2009 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
It's been awhile since I've written. Time to give a picture of who you are.

You're still this incredible determined, happy, curious boy. You want to do everything -- especially everything that your brother does. You copy him. You join him. You love him. And yes, sometimes you annoy him.

I see you doing some things your brother did when he was young and I see you trying to do things your brother does now. One of your favorite things is to put together the snaps on your booster chair. A long time ago you learned the family head butt and to give five. Now you're putting your whole fist in the air as your attempt at the thumbs up. When Max shows us how strong he is by making a muscle, you follow by putting out your arm.

Your even determined in your sleep. After bath, mama feeds you and you fall asleep and she puts you into your crib. Within a couple hours, you wake up crying. Usually it's now me who gets you. I went through a faze where I could only get you to sleep on the couch (just like Max way back when). Now I usually lay you down in bed with your brother. I stay with you while you cry and wiggle until find your "comfortable place." Sometimes when you fall asleep, I fall asleep with the two of you. Sometimes I put you back into your crib. And sometimes -- like tonight -- I leave you with your brother and go do something else -- like update your blogs.

The crying in bed doesn't wake up Max (he must've got that heavy sleeping from me). But there are times you annoy him. Mostly when you take something he wants or we insist he share something he has.

Mostly though, he loves you. He cuddles with you. He gives you things. He makes sure we get you what you want. And he says "I love you Alex."

You recently started saying a new word: "ah oh."

You smile a lot. I love when I come home and I see you walking from the other room to greet me with a big smile -- and with something in your hand. You like carrying things. Yesterday, mama made you a smoothie and you carried the empty cup around much of the evening.

December 12, 2009 - Dear Alex

Dear Alex, I saw you walking away from me today and this realization hit me hard: you're going to grow up one day.

Intellectually, I've always known that. Yet, you're my youngest and there is this probably natural parental feeling that the youngest will stay young. As you and Max get older and do more things, I'm reminded continuosly that this is but a stage of life.

Someday you're going to talk and go to school like your brother. And some day later you're going to perhaps go off to college, get a job and start a family of your own. I don't want you to stay this size. But I'll miss this you.

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!