Dear Jackson | Letters to My Son | Washington DC Family Photographer

Dear Jackson,

You're turning two tomorrow and I'm already forgetting things. I'm forgetting how big you were when you were six months old. I can't remember when exactly it was that you first said "mama" or "dada." I can't for the life of me remember when it was that you got so big.

It's true what they say: the days are long, but the years are short. Having a child has been the most life-altering experience of my life. More than getting my first job or getting married. More than owning a home or graduating college. And I won't lie to you, it's been hard. I miss having free time and not worrying that the house isn't toddler-proofed.

But even with the chronic sleep deprivation, it has been so wonderful. You are amazing and so so sweet. And now, you're not a baby anymore. You're a little boy. You climb on everything. You sing songs. The first time we heard you sing we stopped and just listened to you. You get shy when you realize someone is listening, but I think, also proud. You like that we stop to listen. Your favorites to sing are Wheels on the Bus, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and your ABCs. You've recently discovered Elmo, so we already have half a dozen Elmo books ready to read at any given moment. If your current infatuation is any indication, I have a feeling Elmo will a prominent figure in your childhood.

I can't believe another year with you has passed. It feels like I was just coming home with a brand new squirmy baby, unsure of what I was doing. I wish so many things for your future. I want you to be happy. To be kind. To remember that you are luckier than most, and to pay it forward. I hope you never let go of your persistence, even if it does sometimes make parenting harder, because it's so important to shoot for the moon and never ever give up.

Happy birthday baby boy.

Love you bunches,
Mom

Dear Jackson | March 2015

Dear Jackson,

You are such a little boy now. I'm not even entirely sure what to write this month because everything feels like it's changing so much.

We play this game sometimes, you and I. I'll whisper a name to you, and then you'll whisper one back. Until finally I yell out JACKSON! and tickle you and you squeal like it's the biggest, best surprise you've ever had.

Mommy
Daddy
Heidi
Katy
Bob
JACKSON!

You always ask for more. It's a game that never gets old.

Bubbles are a thing that also never get old. Ever. You can play bubbles for hours. Literally. Just ask your dad. We've gotten to the point where we have to make sure to never utter the b-word in your presence unless we're willing to play an endless game of bubbles and end up with soap residue everywhere.

You love songs. Especially Wheels on the Bus. I think I sang it 50 times the other day. But you go all out every time. Hands circling for the wheels, beeping the horn, opening and closing the door, babies crying. You are very into it.

We go to story time at the library now. Every week it takes you a few minutes to warm up to it, but you're getting braver. Each time getting closer to the reader and venturing a couple steps away from your dad and me. I love watching you gain confidence and losing yourself in having such a good time.

You're also in swim class again. Thankfully you still seem to love it. It helps that they sing  Wheels on the Bus there too. That song is everywhere. I even hear it in my sleep.

Love you bunches,
Mom

Dear Jackson | October 2014

Dear Jackson,

You are WALKING.

You took your time with it, but man you are fun. And so so proud of yourself. When you make your way back and forth across a room for the first time, or manage to bypass a minefield of toys littered across the floor, your face breaks out into the biggest smile I have ever seen. You know you've done something pretty darn cool. And you have the funniest waddle gait. And when you run? Imagine Looney Tunes. Your feet move as fast as they can, but you still seem to stay in one place. I imagine that will change quickly.

Walking has already opened up a whole new world for us. For you as you explore; For me and your dad as we try to keep up and make sure you don't run into too many things on any given day. You like to hold my hand (and your dad's hand too) when you walk from room to room. I'm not sure if you feel more secure that way or if you just want to show us everything you're checking out, but I'll take it. I know you'll shake me off eventually so I'll keep holding on for as long as you'd like.

You might notice from this month's photo, you still haven't gotten a haircut. I've made comments about doing it soon, but everyone keeps telling me not to touch it. I love your crazy hair, but, dude, it is kind of crazy. Long and straight on top, curly all around the back and sides. Your bedhead is an amazing thing. But your curls are perfection and you look so darn adorable first thing in the morning. Any pending haircutting plans have once again been put on hold.

Some stats:

Current Words: Mommy, Daddy, Puppy (squirrels are classified as puppies now), More, Ball, Bye-Bye (with a wave), Hi, 'Nana (aka banana, which may just mean all food in general... and perhaps milk too), Deeda (your teacher's name), Baby

Favorite toys: Balls of any shape and size. Chalk, the entire back deck and front porch are currently covered in your artwork.

Favorite activity: pulling out every single book and having us read them to you one after the other. Over and over again, you climb into our laps and point to the pictures of things you recognize - usually a ball or a puppy - and then move onto the next.

Weight: About 25 pounds, which feels like much more when you insist on being carried around. I'm not complaining though, I really do love it.

Love you bunches,
Mom

Dear Jackson | August 2014

Dear Jackson,

You like to stand. A lot.

You've decided to take your time with walking, which is no surprise because your butt-scooting abilities could rival a sprinter's speed, but this month you've taken the next step in taking steps: you're standing now. You pull up on everything. Once you realized you could do it, you did it and it's done everywhere. You pull up on me, your dad, Heidi, the wall. You don't discriminate, if it's vertical you'll try to pull yourself up on it.

And the minute that started happening so did cruising around while holding onto things. You may not walk on your own, but if you have something to hold onto you amble along like it's no big thing. Going from sofa to table to chair, you'll make your way around an entire room.

I'm convinced the walking thing will happen any second now. You like to practice letting go of thing-you're-holding-onto to see how long you can stand on your own. Each time you wobbly stand alone for a little longer.

Walking is coming.

We're not ready.

This month was a fun one because your cousin came to stay with us for a week. You love her weekend visits, so having her here for seven days straight was the most fun thing ever for you. She may be five, but you try to do everything she does and check out everything that she has. Luckily for all of us, she's great at sharing.

You're still talking up a storm. Your daycare teachers tell us that you talk more than any other kid in the room. You also like to share with the other kids, super sweet. You still give kisses, but instead of fish-faced kisses with your lips puckered up, they've morphed into you leaning towards us with a resolutely closed mouth while going mmmmmmmmmm. Again, super cute.

It looks like you're working on your ninth tooth, but, just like you with walking, it's taking its time. I hope it makes its appearance soon.

I've been debating cutting your hair. Straight on top and curly in the back, it's getting kind of crazy. You have some amazing bedhead every morning. Despite the obvious need, I still can't bring myself to cut it off. It's coming though.

Maybe next month.

Love you bunches,

Mom

Dear Jackson | July 2014

Dear Jackson,

I've decided to start a new project writing letters to you. Letters that you will hopefully look back on one day so you can see how you used to be, how your parents used to be (young - believe it or not we're young Jackson), and the times we all share together. I'm not sure why it's taken me a full year to start this project. Your first year was full of so much worth writing about. So many firsts. Not just for you, but for me and your dad as well. I've never had a baby before, but the experience was so much more than I ever though it would be. More seems to be the word of the year. More work. More firsts. More love.

Unless we're talking about sleep of course. In that case the word of the year is definitely less.

You still don't consistently sleep through the night. It's getting better, but we're all taking baby steps to reach the elusive goal. At least we've finally managed to stop middle of the night feedings and it's a lot easier to help get you back to sleep now. While you might still wake up at night, you are a dream to snuggle as you drift off to sleep. Cuddling with you is pretty darn awesome. No doubt your dad and I contribute in some way to the continued wake ups at night, but we're still figuring this parenting thing out. I promise we'll have it figured out by the time you're 30. Maybe.

You are just about one of the sweetest babies in the world. Your kisses and hugs melt my heart every single time. When I feel like I need a little pick-me-up I just ask you hug? and you lean right into me. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world. You've started trying to hug the dogs too, although the jury's still out about how much they like it in return. You love the dogs though, and they love you in return. Especially Heidi. Your newfound joy in feeding her cheerios has done wonders for your relationship.

You turned one year old last month. A crazy monumental milestone that seems like it came way too fast. Am I still allowed to call you a baby now? I'm not sure what the rules are here, but I'm clinging to that baby title for as long as I can. Although, I look at you now and I can already see a little boy staring back at me. Precocious and curious and so impossibly cute that I can't ever hold your little rebellions against you. My favorite is when you look back at me just as you cross the threshold of an opened baby gate. Your mischievous grin is so adorable.

You seem to be diving headfirst into toddler-hood despite my unwillingness to relinquish the baby title. You have opinions. You want to go places. You aren't shy about letting us know. You take on the world - which looks suspiciously like the backyard - and aren't afraid of getting dirty in the process. Just like your babyhood, I'm sure sure your toddlerhood holds no shortage of firsts and adventures. I can't wait.

Things you love: swimming (aka splash-as-much-as-you-can time), banging on things that make big loud noises, your cousin, FOOD (watermelon and peaches are the current favorites)

Things you don't quite love: getting licked in the face by the dogs, diaper changes

Vocabulary: you say hi to everyone you like, use uh oh in the proper context, and seem to be eeking out I love you in your own special way. Mama still seems to mean food instead of me, but I'm holding out hope that won't last forever.

Love you bunches,

Mom