I still remember the moment that your dad and I decided we would try for a second child. We were out to dinner on a (much needed) date back in Boston. Our friend Zandy had graciously offered to watch you, Atticus, so we could spend some time connecting and really figuring out the next phase of our family to look like. It was a beautiful conversation, and over that dinner, we solidified in our hearts and minds what we wanted – to become a family of four and give Atticus a sibling.
We were extraordinarily lucky, boys. We decided that we wanted another child, and a year later, we welcomed you to the world, Finnian. Many people aren’t as lucky, and sometimes – hell, oftentimes – life doesn’t work out the way you plan. But in this instance, for your dad and me, it did.
Of course you Atticus, being only 2 and a half at the time couldn’t quite grasp what was happening in our small, lovely world. You watched with curiosity as my belly got bigger and proudly declared that you wanted your baby brother’s name to be “tow truck.” (This is a story you continue to love to hear and get a kick out of, Finnian.) You proudly picked out “welcome to the world” toys for your baby brother which included a truck (obviously) and a stuffed animal dog (still in Finnian’s bedroom!). You were a fantastic big brother from the start, giggling with your brother, talking to him, “reading” to him, and giving him kisses on his head. (You did roll him off your lap once, declaring you were done holding him, and he almost fell onto the floor. But we’ll let that moment slide.)
And Finnian, you have fiercely admired your brother since… well… pretty much always. You copied his every move, following him like a shadow. Atticus’s interests quickly became your interests, and you have always loved spending time with him.
But this summer was different. It didn’t happen overnight. In fact, I am not totally sure when it happened. But as I watched you two with awe and wonder this summer, I noticed for the first time you two are friends. Like, actually friends. You no longer just play next to each other, lost in your own worlds of Lego or Paw Patrol (although you two both can still get lost in your own worlds, especially when it comes to Lego these days). You play with each other, and – dare I even say it aloud? – seem to enjoy one another’s company. Let’s be clear. There are still moments of frustration and annoyance and the both of you yelling from the basement phrases like, “Moooooom. Finnian/Atticus (take your pick) is (annoying me/won’t leave me alone/won’t share/won’t give the sword back etc.). But often, your dad and I will sit at our kitchen table chatting over a cup of coffee in the mornings while you two play downstairs with each other for long stretches of time. It’s glorious. And your stick game has really leveled up this summer. You two can spend hours wielding sticks or bows and arrows, using your incredible imagination, transforming our backyard into your very own Hyrule Castle.
We became members at a water park this summer, Cascade Bay. And the two of you would spend countless hours in that pool, splashing and jumping and cheering for each other’s lopsided under-water somersaults. One of my favorite moments of the summer was when Atticus’s friends decided to play in the deep end of the pool. Finnian, you are just starting to swim on your own and didn’t feel comfortable going to that particular area. Unprompted by me, Atticus decided to stick with Finnian in the shallow end, not wanting his little brother to feel left out or less than. In that moment, I couldn’t have been more proud of the two of you, of the relationship you have developed.
Do you annoy each other? Of course. Do you sometimes want to scream because you can’t take another minute around one another? You betcha. But your friendship has no doubt deepened. On that night in February of 2017, when your dad and I decided to try for a second baby, this is what we had envisioned, had hoped for in our hearts. That you two would be not simply brothers, but friends. Will you always like each other? Probably not. But we continue to hope you’ll always love one another, always have each other’s backs, and always know that you can count on your brother. And, of course, that you two get into a little mischief with from time to time together. After all, that’s what brothers are for.
It’s been one whole year since I have updated this blog. I guess we have been busy living our lives. But, on occasion, I do sneak away to write down things you two say. So, here it is — just a few of my favorite gems from the past year. And adorable pictures, obviously. We love you. Keep on shining bright.
Atticus: “I just want to kick back and relax” — when asked what he wanted to do upon getting home from school. Typical first-grader 🙂
Finnian: “I moved and picked up some rocks so some ants could live” — always caring about living creatures.
Finnian: “I love our talks. And I can see the future” — with work goggles on, predicting what’s going to happen next.
Finnian: “I don’t like either options!” – in response to me telling him he has to either pee or gets no books before bed.
Atticus: “My two friends, Grant and Asher, are cray cray. No really.”
Finnian: “That’s what I have my head stuck in” — meaning, “That’s what’s stuck in my head.”
Finnian: “No, mom. It’s called AppleBeast. Not Applebees.”
Atticus: “I wish I could be Finnian.” — why, I ask. “So I could feel his pain and not him.” When Finnian bit his tongue falling off our kitchen bench.
Atticus and Finnian, the two of you continue to delight and surprise us every day. We couldn’t ask for two better humans to raise. This year, the year Atticus completed first grade and Finnian completed Preschool 1 and began Preschool 2, was one of the best. I started a new position in St. Paul Public Schools, and your dad made it his mission to find a new position teaching theatre – which he accomplished! But… this blog isn’t about your ol’ mom and dad. It’s about you two rascals (as Nana likes to call you). So, what were you up to this year, you ask? Well, here are some highlights.
Atticus, this was the year you learned to truly love reading. Hilda, Bird & Squirrel, Captain Underpants, Dogman, and Harry Potter. This past summer, the summer of 2022, your dad read you aloud every single Harry Potter book. Harry Potter opened up a world of magic and wonder, a world we hope you hold onto for the rest of your childhood. A childhood full of wonder. Nothing gets better.
Finnian, this was the year you fell in love with skating and soccer. You learned how to skate on your own, took lessons, and keep wanting to be the best at just about everything. We constantly tell you that it doesn’t matter if you’re the best — just that you have fun and try hard. We hope our words stick around and that you’ll remember them when you encounter the inevitable difficulties that arise in life, whether you’re four or forty.
Atticus/Finnian, this was the year that you grew your hair out. Just like your dad’s. And, in my opinion, you both look very cool. You both got that rock-star swoop down, keeping the hair out of your eyes. One of Finnian’s teachers even called him, “Justin Bieber,” doing the hair swoop just like Bieber.
Atticus, this was the year that your dad became your true hero. Yes, you love me. Yes, I am your mom and we’ll always have a special relationship – I promise you that. But your dad became your idol. You are happiest when you are playing with him, reading with him, relaxing with him. It doesn’t matter, just that you are in his presence. I get it. I feel the same way. And may you always look up to your dad. He’s a pretty fantastic guy. And we are all so lucky he’s ours.
Finnian, this was the year you put aside your love for kitties to embrace dogs. In particular, OUR dog. Yup. December 2021 was our “gotcha month” for Nissa, our little-ish rescue dog. She’s perfect. She sheds non-stop and relentlessly hunts squirrels. But she’s just the best. When she first got to our house, you hid in the pillows of the couch and wanted to give her back. But now, I think you love her more than just about anything else. And while cats used to be your favorite animal, you have slowly morphed into a dog-lover/Nissa-lover. And you love to say, “she’s a pooch” when asked by folks what kind of dog she is. It melts my heart.
Atticus, this was the year you gained confidence. You now play with friends without mom and dad around, you go to the top of our hill by yourself, you ride your bike around without hesitation, you can tie your shoes and you will spend hours at a time in a pool, even testing out the deep-end with no life jacket. It’s been beautiful to watch.
Finnian, this was the year you learned to do math. Both you and your brother blow my mind with how smart you are. But it’s been incredible watching you figure out addition, subtraction, and how to problem solve using numbers.
Atticus, this was the year you lost teeth! Four and counting… but you love to just let them fall out on their own. What kid does that?! I mean, most kids are in there, ripping them out. You? You just like to wait. You’re so silly. And simply the best.
Finnian, this was the year you got really into Battle Bots, Star Wars, and Dinosaurs. Playing them. Watching them. Everything in between. It’s been very cool watching your own tastes develop. And you recently told us you want to be a paleontologist. And a bee keeper. Because a bee keeper helps bees stay alive which are good for the earth. I mean, really? Who are you, kid? Gosh, we love you.
Atticus, this was the year you started to love theatre. We got to see your dad in a community theatre show, and you couldn’t get enough! You even tried a theatre camp with your buddy William that you seemed to really enjoy. Maybe you’ll end up following in your parents’ footsteps. I mean, you do come by it honestly… time will tell.
Finnian, this was the year you started to play actual games. Sorry? Check. Checkers? Check. Dungeons Mayhem? Check. Chess? Check. Yup. That’s right. You play chess. And you’re only four. Again, you and your brother amaze us. And you’re both so much fun to hang with. Oh, and let’s not forget duckball. You are the “champion,” after all.
Atticus and Finnian. I am sorry I am not blogging more. But I please know your dad and I are just busy. Busy doing what? Just soaking up every minute, every second, every year. Watching you grow is truly the best part of our lives. Here’s to ’22-’23 and the adventures they bring our family.
I started this blog so that I would be able to look back and remember not just the big moments of your lives but the small ones as well, the unexpected moments that sometimes give us the greatest joy. I wanted to be able to remember details that I swore I never would never forget but, as time passes, have become a little fuzzy in my mind. So this blog is in honor of just that – writing to remember what otherwise would very likely be forgotten with time. That is, some of the amazingly delightful things you two have said over the past 9 months (October 2020 to June 2021). When you are older and reading this, I hope this makes you smile and laugh as much as it did me and your dad.
Finnian: My toes aren’t crunchy. They are squishy.
Atticus: It’s my poop/fart hat (said as you put a strainer on top of your head and ran around our house).
Atticus: Biden has more counts! And did you know we saw the Corona virus at school under the microscope? (The former is awesome! The latter…. concerning?)
Finnian: Stuffies… here I ammmmm!
Finnian: I just love you. I cry for you.
Finnian: He’s really cute (in reference to babies and, specifically, baby cousin Peregrine.)
Atticus: (While trying to pronounce the word ‘she’ in a book) Shhh…. shhh…. shiiit.
Finnian: I can do it. I have strong muscles. (Makes a clenched fist, muscle face.)
Finnian:When I was in your full belly. I came out of your mouth and walked out. (Makes total sense actually.)
Atticus: You sound like you have the Corona.(After I coughed a bit.)
Finnian: Atticuuuuussssss. Get your butt up hereeeeeee. (Calling for Atticus for dinner.Pretty sure that’s what dad says….)
Finnian: I have something to tell you real quick. (Pause.) I love you.
Atticus: If I win and you win you get wine and I get toys.
Finnian: I’ll tell you tomorrow. I promise.(In response to me asking what you had for lunch at school.)
Atticus: You’d be tired too if you had the long day I had.
Finnian: Mom, why don’t you have a penis? Don’t worry. When you grow up, you’ll be able to pee like a big boy.
Finnian: Nana can pay for that season on netflix. She has lots of money.
Atticus: (Simply waiving on traffic to keep the flow going at Kindergarten pick up. No adults to be seen, but Atticus stepped up. Rest assured, order has been kept.)
Finnian: (After I ask Finnian to look at a zit on my forehead. I said something like, “Is this a zit?”) No mom, it’s just a nipple.
Kids really do say the darndest things, don’t they? And now some pictures because we love you and think you are adorable.
By the time you read this, the year 2020 will likely be well behind us. Perhaps it’ll be a year you end up studying and talking about in high school or (should you choose to attend) college. At the young ages of five and two, I doubt you will be able to recall much of anything from this year. Therefore, I write so that you can remember. So that we can all remember.
This year began with so much hope. Nana and I attended a conference led by Oprah Winfrey. Your dad was beginning to contemplate how to dip his toe back into the theater scene. You both celebrated birthdays, our house filled with family and friends. Your dad and I even booked a trip to Canada to celebrate 10 years of marriage.
And then the Pandemic hit. I first heard of the virus in January while sipping wine in Grandpa Marty’s kitchen. We joked about the absurdity of the virus’ nick-name (Corona) and how it was detering people from drinking the beer (Corona). Then gradually, the virus spread and by late February it had reached the United States. By mid-March, schools closed. Businesses came to a screeching halt. Travel was restricted. Borders closed. All the world, it seemed, was sheltering in place. Including our little family.
Your dad and I began working from home. Circulo de Amigos closed it’s programming to only the few kiddos whose parents could absolutely not work at home. Within 24 hours, all of our routines and sense of normalcy was thwarted. Looking back, I remember feeling like I was living in one of those apocolyptic stories your dad loves. The roads were silent. Parking lots empty. Sidewalks and playgrounds void of people. Like many, I had a really hard time sleeping those first two months.
And then in late May, George Floyd, an unarmed black man, was murdered in South Minneapolis by a white police officer. And our city burned. Your dad and I work in South Minneapolis. The kids we teach live in South Minneapolis. You two, Finnian and Atticus, go to school in South Minneapolis, mere blocks away from where the uprisings began. Buildings were lit on fire. The police station you knew and loved, Atticus, burned to the ground. Windows were smashed. Stores looted. Many families – like those of the students your dad and I work with – had to evacuate their homes. It no longer looked like Minneapolis. It looked like a war zone.
Similar to many white people I know, at first, I didn’t understand. Why respond to racial injustices with such violence? But then my thinking was (rightfully so) challenged. Three days after the murder of George Floyd, a co-worker pushed my thinking in a meeting when we were talking about a Wendy’s and an Autozone being lit on fire and burned the previous night. She said something like this: “Many people are talking about being devestated and angered by the loss of property and businesses. What they should be talking about and should be angry about is the unjust loss of Black lives at the hands of law enforcement.
She was right.
And you know what, boys? I wish I could write to you and tell you that George Floyd was a horrific, yet rare tragedy.
A tragedy? Absolutely. Rare? Let me say their names: George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Eric Gardner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile, Rayshard Brooks, Stephon Clark
And those are just off the top of my head.
2020. First the pandemic and devestating economic hardships for millions. Then George Floyd and a racial reckoning. Our nation at a crossroads, finally beginning to face our long histroy of racial violence. And now, as we approach November, an election that will likely be very contentious and, quite frankly, has in many ways highlighted the most disgusting parts of our humanity. I want to tell you this remarkably challenging year ends well. But the truth is, I don’t know. It often feels like we’ve been living with feelings of uncertainty for an eternity. I am not sure when it will end.
The pandaemic is still raging on as we approach 2021. Racial injustices are still occurring every day. I still don’t sleep really well at night, and I have had some bouts of vertigo that I have to imagine are stress related. But you know what, boys? I love both of you madly. You have helped me remain hopeful this year in moments of despair. Your boundless energy and budding sense of kindness keeps my heart full. Another co-worker said to me a few months ago that he was really happy he didn’t have kids during this shit-storm of a year. I disagree. I think having kids – having the two of you in our lives – is one of the only things that has helped me survive this year and remember what truly matters.
I write so that we all can remember. But may you remember these two things above all else when looking back on this year. We were lucky. So very lucky. And we loved each other.
Whelp. I had the best of intentions to blog more frequently this fall. Just reread the last post. About your 4th birthday, Atticus, and your 1st birthday, Finnian. And as a I sit at the kitchen counter writing this, I am fully aware that your 2nd before is a little over a month away. #momlife? #workingmomlife? #lifewithtwokidsunder5? #iamtiredafteraworkandjustwanttorelax? #arehashtagsoutofvogue?
Sorry about my hashtag digression. I promise that used to be cool. Now, I am not quite sure. But I’ll still give ’em a go because I think they are funny.
ANYWAY, yesterday the four of us sat around our dining room table and “reflected” on the prior year and the year ahead of us. And the word reflected is, yes, intentionally in quotes. Why, you ask? Because while your dad and I talked about what our favorite and most challenging parts of the year were, the two of you… well, let’s just say we hope this is a tradition the both of you grow into. Atticus, you were quite clear that our time reflecting was “boring,” and that you just wanted to get to “building some LEGOS downstairs.” Finnian, you were also quite clear about how you felt, as you cried pretty much for the entirety of the 5 minute activity, miffed that I took away my phone from you. (Again, reallllly hoping this tradition takes off in the next few years. I am thinking it can only get better with each passing year. Sort of like how decorating our Christmas tree has gone. It’s gradually getting better, but mostly still gives your dad heart palpitations.)
Therefore, in honor of the theme of reflection as we enter not only a new year, but a new decade, I thought I’d try to capture some of the highlights and most significant moments from 2019. Some of them were glorious. Some were challenging. And one was, frankly, historical. In no particular order, here it goes:
HALLOWEEN: Finnian, you stole all of our hearts with your sweet monkey costume. And it turns out that, despite the costume being the same one Atticus wore around that age, the “monkey” costume very, very much fits your personality. Because you are full of mischief, energy and adorableness – just like a little monkey! This Halloween felt especially significant, however, because Atticus chose to buck traditional gender norms and dress as a female character from Paw Patrol. When asked why he decided to be Skye for Halloween, Atticus said, “because she’s brave and awesome.” Atticus, your dad and I love that you do not feel boxed in by gender stereotypes. And we are thrilled that you look up to both male and female characters alike. And when kids (and adults) have said, “that’s weird” or “you can’t pretend to be a girl,” you simply say, “I can be whatever I want to be.” Keep it up, Atticus. And thanks for being such an incredible example for your younger brother.
FINNIAN LEARNED TO TALK: Finnian, your explosion of words has been beautiful to watch unfold. You are hilarious and earnest and incredibly smart. A few months ago, you were a fairly agreeable child, saying, “Mmmhmmm” to pretty much every request. However, you have quickly picked up the word “no” which I dare say is now perhaps your favorite word, second only to “poop” and “toot” thanks to your older brother. We also love it when you mix English with Spanish, like saying “agua” for “water” and “aqui” for “here.” (Although aqui is pronounced more like, “aquiiiiiiiiiiii” because so much excites you. And you have named your beloved cat! Following in the creative footsteps of your brother with his naming of Brown Monkey (which is, in fact, a brown monkey) and Spotted Monkey (which is, in fact, a spotted monkey), you named your favorite orange stuffed cat “Meow.” Maybe a step up from your brother, actually not that I think of it. Hearing you speak and communicate through language has been sheer joy for us.
BIRTHDAYS: Finnian hit a huge milestone (and so did mom and dad!) by turning 1. And Atticus had a pretty bumpin’ birthday party (two parties in one day, as a matter of fact) in honor of him turning 4. Dad and I celebrated his turning 37 by going to see Metamorphisis at the Guthrie Theater, and I celebrated turning 38 by throwing your Nana a retirement party at our home. I couldn’t have imagined a better way to ring in 38 than to celebrate all the many accomplishments of your Nana. Trust me boys, she’s a total brave, compassionate, smart bad-ass and it was incredibly fun to spend time recognizing her.
TEETH: Atticus, you had your first trip to the dentist at the beginning of 2019. You did so great, and we were very proud of the bravery you showed. Unfortunately, your mom’s check-up in January did not go nearly as well, as I learned I had something very rare called reabsorption in an upper front tooth. The only way to treat it because of the amount of reabsorption was through extraction. So, in May (with your auntie Emily by my side) I got my tooth removed and have been wearing a flipper since (a fake tooth on a retainer). At first, you both were a little scared of seeing me without my fake tooth in. But as kids typically do, you quickly adjusted and continued to love me unconditionally, tooth or no tooth. And MAJOR props to your dad who has never said a single word about how hideous I look without my tooth. However, I consider myself lucky in spite of all this. Here’s the thing, boys. So many people in this country (and the world) do not have access to good dental care. And when they do have access to things like fillings or teeth being pulled, it can be very, very expensive. Up until this happening to me, I simply assumed that people I came across with missing teeth (like one woman at your current daycare/preschool) had poor dental hygiene. Maybe I even considered them a little lazy about brushing their teeth. The truth is, however, that you can do everything right and still end up with missing teeth (like me). And to get a tooth replaced is ridiculously expensive, so it’s not even an option for many people. Like so many things in this country, dental care is rigged to favor those who are part of the middle/upper class. And it’s not fair. But this experience has pushed my thinking even deeper around the privilege of dental care. And perhaps in reading this, it has pushed yours as well.
NEW ORLEANS: Mom and dad went to New Orleans for our annual “get away.” We are so fortunate that your Nana and Mimi are always willing to watch you two when we want to get out of town together. We miss you both something fierce any time we are away from you – even while strolling down Bourbon Street and sipping some cocktails 🙂 But, when you are older, you’ll understand the importance of connecting with your partner. So that we can continue to prioritize one another and be the best, happiest versions of ourselves for the two of you as you grow .
DOOR COUNTY ADVENTURES: We spent four lovely days in Ephraim around the 4th of July. It’s truly magical up there, in the woods, where Grandpa and Grandma Wiltgen used to live and have now gifted to their children. You both played with cousins, went for walks in the woods, enjoyed the beach and ice cream, and even made a stop at a farm on the way home. What’s most wonderful for me is getting to see you both enjoy many of the same things I loved so much about going to Door County when I was younger. Maybe some day soon you’ll be ready for a haunted house and some mini golf… my all-time favorite activities up there.
THE REDERS CAME TO VISIT: In late July, Evie, Matt and Crystal came to visit us for five days. It was truly lovely, and our time together included a puppet festival at the U of M, hiking around Lebanon Hills, cookouts, water balloon fights, and seeing Minnehaha Falls. Their visit was a reminder to me about how the best of friendships can be formed in unexpected places. (Crystal and I met during a new mom’s support group when you, Atticus, and your buddy, Evie, were only a month or two old.) And their visit also served as a reminder that some friendships, no matter the distance, are built to last. Those kinds of friendships, Atticus and Finnian, are rare. So when you find them, make sure to hold onto them ever so tightly.
IMPEACHMENT: On December 18th, 2019, the House of Representatives impeached Donald Trump, our current sitting president. With this, he became the third sitting president to be impeached. Some time tin 2020, the Senate will conduct a trial to determine if crimes were committed by Donald Trump. It’s no secret that your dad and I despise Trump. He lies, he’s mean, he is misogynistic. He has made hurtful comments about almost every minority group. He punishes reporters for asking questions and uses twitter to bully and poke fun at others. 2020 is election year, boys. And you better believe that your dad and I will be voting (and talking with you both despite your young age) about the power of voting and the importance of doing so. As a holiday card that we received from our good friends in Boston said, “May your holidays be merry, may your New Year be grand, and may we find ourselves with new occupants in the White House.” I couldn’t agree more.
ATTICUS CONQUERED SWIM LESSONS: Atticus, you were incredibly nervous about your swim lessons. Not necessarily about being in the water and learning to swim. But this fall was the first time you were going in the water with just your teacher, without mom and dad to help you. Full disclosure we tried this in 2018 and it did NOT go well. In fact, it was down right awful. However, this time (with the support of getting to you to pretend you were a Mere Pup and some good old fashioned bribery), you DID IT! You did 8 whole weeks of swim lessons on your own. And the best part? You loved it! More to come in 2020…
FINNIAN LEARNED HOW TO BUST A MOVE: Finnian, as soon as you turn 3, we are signing you up for dance lessons. You love, love, LOVE to dance. Every time music comes on, you move your body to the rhythm. And it’s the sweetest, most adorable sight to behold. The song of the summer for you? Lay Me Down by Rome, Featuring Sublime followed by the Paw Patrol Theme Song. It doesn’t necessarily surprise me, though. Any time I would sing to Atticus when you were growing in my belly, you’d start kicking. See? You were movin’ and groovin’ well before you entered this world. May you always dance with such joy and abandonment.
ATTICUS AND FINNIAN BECAME BROTHERS: This might seem strange to put down as a significant event for 2019. I mean, you technically became brothers on February 11th 2018, the moment Finnian was born. But this year, the year of 2019, your dad and I witnessed the start of what I hope is a beautiful friendship between the two of you. Did you spend a lot of this year fighting with each other? Of course! Now that Finnian has his own wants and needs and has developed into a little person, the fighting has increased exponentially. At the peak of your fighting – perhaps October? – this is how it would typically unfold. Atticus, you would be playing with toys. Finnian would want to play with a toy (sometimes the one you were playing with, and in all fairness, sometimes not the one you were playing with). Atticus, you would then yell at Finnian to stop playing with your toys (even if you weren’t playing with the one Finnian wanted). Finnian would hit you. Then, Atticus, you’d yell some more. Rinse and repeat. Your dad and I joked a lot during this time that we should just leave you both in the basement to figure it out on your own. Don’t worry. We didn’t. But the thought crossed our mind on more than several occasions. But the fighting has somehow subsided quite a bit. Don’t get me wrong. It still happens. In fact, this evening, Finnian, you had your brother in what looked like a choke hold. But there are more moments of kindness. Of sharing. Moments of laughing together over silly words. Moments of running around and dancing to Pete the Cat songs. Moments of recognizing that the other is sad and giving hugs and kisses to one another. It’s truly the best. 2018 is when you officially became brothers. But 2019 is when the word “brother” began to take on a more beautiful meaning.
So… that’s a wrap. Some (not nearly all!) of the most significant moments of 2019. Here’s to happiness, dancing, LEGO building, and healthy teeth in 2020. And just maybe, just maybe… a new President.
Atticus, you turned FOUR. You are FOUR years old. That’s almost one entire hand. As I reflect on the year and look through photos, something is very clear to me: This is the year you became a little boy. Gone are the days of baby fat, messy eating, and indecipherable phrases. You are your own little person, developing preferences and personality and a delightful sense of humor. You are a veteran big brother, having (mostly) learned how to share your toys, food, and attention given by mom and dad. You truly have matured in a way that I don’t think I was quite ready for. When you are feeling comfortable and confident, you play independently or with other kids for long stretches of time, only occasionally checking in with mom and dad to make sure we are still present. And you (FINALLY) go to bed without getting up, laughing, and running around our house, which ultimately led to tears and frustration by both me and you. (Note: I am knocking on a LOT of wood right now.)
But… you still are our little love, our little-big guy. You still love snuggles. You still crawl into our bed in the middle of the night, seeking the comfort of being near us. You still, on occasion, like to be “carried like a baby,” and you still sleep with “stuffies.” You still prefer your mom and dad to any friend, you still love being read to late into the night, and if it were up to you, you’d never go to preschool and just stay in the comfort of your home with your little family.
Personally, I love this phase. This intersectionality between being little and starting to grow up, gaining a bit more independence. I love being able to shower while you play or watch t.v. without a fear of you burning down the house. But I also love being able to wrap my arms around you and lean into snuggles, especially when you are tired or sad. I love being able to carry on conversations with you, hearing about your friends and school and the details of your day. I love belly laughing with you over silly things. And I love that I can still fix most problems with reassurance and a hug and kiss.
A part of me wishes that I could always fix any challenge, any insecurity, any feelings of sadness with a hug and kiss. But Atticus, as much as it makes my heart ache, I know that’s simply not the case. You will have moments of sadness. You will have moments of feeling not good enough. You will have moments of feeling angry or left out. But please remember this: on the other side of sadness is joy. On the other side of not feeling good enough is belief in yourself. On the other side of anger is passion and on the other side of feeling left out is true belonging.
You are four, Atticus. We love you more each year. And we’ll likely keep saying that. Even in your teenage years. (Mayyyybe in your teenage years.) And no matter if you are four or forty-four, we hope you always experience more of the “other side.”
Finnian Leonard, you turned 1. We made it! Phew! The first year of your life? It was beautiful and messy and insane and tiring and joyous. We can’t imagine life without you. We celebrated you with a small party at our new house in Eagan. Guests included all of your grandparents, a few friends, some cousins and aunts and uncles. And of course your big brother, Atticus. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was perfect.
In honor of you turning 1, and having lived a whopping 12 months, the following are 12 wishes we have for you as you continue to grow and change and learn and love.
12. Choose kindness. Always. Towards others, Towards creatures. Towards our world. (Even when your brother steals your toys…)
11. Stay curious. You are the most curious 1 year old. I sincerely hope this never changes. May your curiousness about flushing toilets and opening drawers to see what’s inside eventually transform into endless curiosity about the world surrounding us.
10. Integrity. Do the right thing. Even when it’s hard. Even when mom and dad aren’t watching.
9. Break a few rules here and there. Don’t get me wrong. I would like you to develop a strong moral compass and make positive decisions. But some rules are meant to be broken (and should be broken). Particularly if they disrupt the status quo and push our world to become better, more equitable, more inclusive.
8. Health. May you always be healthy. And this does not just include your physical health, although that is very important. We want you to feel healthy in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Mentally.
7. We hope you always demonstrate resilience. I imagine some times resilience will come more easily than others. Simply being a human being means that there will inevitably be ups and downs, curve-balls and fastballs, home-runs and strike-outs. May there be more home-runs than strike-outs. But when you do strike-out – because you will – we hope you have enough faith in yourself and in this world to get back up and swing again.
6. A sense of humor. You have been and continue to be a fairly serious baby. But your giggles, when they happen, truly light up a room and make our hearts swell. Your life will certainly have serious moments. But make sure you leave space for those giggles. Life is too short to take too seriously.
5. A sense of belonging. I truly hope you always feel like you belong. To our family. To a group of buddies. At school. Even if you feel like you belong and can be your authentic self around a small handful of other people, that can be enough and can make all the difference. There will most likely be moments where you do not feel that sense of belonging, particularly as you grow older. Your mom and dad have both been there. Please know you will find where it is you belong in this world. And you will always, always belong in our hearts and have a place in our home.
4. We hope you always dance with the happiness and wonder with which you dance now. As soon as music plays, you move your feet, sway your shoulders, bop your head. May moving your body and the joy you experience from music always exist for you.
3. Acceptance. Of differences in others. Of people who look different, have different ideas, speak different languages. But most importantly of yourself. Accept who you are and know that you are enough.
2. Creativity and an appreciation for the arts. Whether that’s painting or storytelling or drama or music or dance. We hope that you find job in creating. Try new ideas. Make connections between seemingly totally different things.
1. Love. May you love and feel loved. May you find a love like your dad and I found in one another. May you find love among your friends. May you always feel loved by your family. And we hope that you always, always love yourself and this crazy world in which you live.
Well, all the holidays – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s – have come and gone, and we are already in the beginning of January. Every year I reflect on how quickly the months of October, November and December seem to pass. And I am always a bit sad to see them go. But the promise of spring in a few months makes the cold and darkness of January a bit more tolerable, I suppose. And thinking back to memories made during the holiday season each year always make me smile. And this year was especially sweet.
Finnian, you celebrated your very first holiday season this year! Highlights included rocking an all-too-familiar lion costume for Halloween, a trip to Nana’s for Thanksgiving festivities with the Kings, a first Christmas spent in our new house in Eagan, and New Year’s at Papa’s house in Tennessee with cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents.
Atticus, you celebrated your fourth holiday season, but your first as a big brother to Finnian. Highlights for you included independently picking out your paw-patrol Chase costume, participating for the first time in the “what are you thankful for alphabet game” at dinner during Thanksgiving, decorating our tree with ornaments that are beginning to mean something special to you, and ringing in the New Year with your cousins, Callie, Blake and Owen and toasting to the year ahead with sparkling cider and statements about what we are most grateful for in 2018. (You said, “spending time with cousins.”)
The best way I can describe our holidays this year is perfectly imperfect. Halloween was simply lovely. The weather was warm enough to enjoy trick-or-treating. Our neighbors in St. Paul were all delightful, and Nana was able to join us for the night which made Halloween that much more fun this year. Thanksgiving was wonderful, too. Our time in Winona was relaxing and fun, complete with delicious food that your dad and uncle Mike cooked and silly games.
The holidays in December? That’s where the imperfect part comes into play. Two days before Christmas, Finnian was diagnosed with a double ear infection at urgent care. Christmas Eve was a fairly restless night for mom and dad because Finnian did not sleep well, and waking up Christmas morning we felt like (very crabby) zombies. Coffee was spilled in the living room, and moments of grouchiness between mom and dad ensued. And New Year’s? We had a long day of travel to Papa’s house in Tennessee which ended in Atticus throwing up in the car five minutes before arriving at the house. And while Finnian was definitely on the mend and feeling better, dad got food poisoning and ended up spending several days/nights not feeling well and, as a result, mom and dad were in bed well before midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Despite the imperfections, there were many moments of sweet joy throughout the Christmas holidays. Like the moment when Atticus opened his gift from Finnian – an Everest stuffed animal – and he scooted over to him, giving him a huge hug and telling him how much he loved the toy. Or watching Finnian enjoy snuggles from his cousins and grandparents over New Years. Or teaching Atticus how to play the beloved “bag game.” Or observing how carefully Atticus hung ornaments on the tree, frequently declaring, “This ornament is really special to me.” Or watching Finnian and Atticus laugh and play with cousins for days, never tiring of each other. Yes, there were imperfections to our holidays. The truth is, there likely always will be, Atticus and Finnian. That’s life. But if you pay attention, there are moments of perfection hidden within the imperfection. Celebrate and hold onto those.
monroebaby 