To Edward on His Second Birthday

Dear Edward,

Today you are turning two years old.  By the time you are reading this you will have no memory of this day.  In fact, it is one of the challenges we are having in trying to plan a special day for you.  What would you like to do?  What would be exciting for you today?  You are awake already, watching Zoboomafoo with Ruby over on the couch, but when the three of us burst into your room singing Happy Birthday to you this morning, you looked confused and almost terrified.  Sorry about that.

Now that you are two, it has hit me that I cannot call you a baby any longer.  You are a full-on toddler, and this is sad to me, because we are not planning to have any more children.  Baby time is over.  And I loved being your Dad when you were a baby.  You were probably the smiliest, happiest baby I have ever met.  Sometimes I miss those days, but I’m sure that if you read this and then come and ask me, I will tell you that I miss the toddler days just as much.

This is an exciting time for you and me.  We get to spend a lot of time together, because Mom is at work and Ruby is at pre-school for a half day every day.  You are right on the verge of fully talking, and you learn new words every day.  Yesterday you learned the word “star” and were very excited to point to a star in a book and tell me what it was.  You sure do love books.  We read every day, and we watch Sesame Street, which I love because it teaches you to read, and you love because it features Elmo, the little boy whisperer.

Your absolute favorite things in the world are cars, followed by balls, and books are starting to move up the list too.  This is a relief to me, because I don’t know anything about cars or playing ball.  You are such a different kid than I remembering being at that age (not that I really remember being two…) and it scares me a lot, because sometimes I feel like I’m not going to be the Dad that you need or want.  I know about things like books, and math, and not getting picked in gym class.  But I promise you that if you join the football team, I will be at every game, unless I am singing in Italy or something.  Also, you are not allowed to join the football team.  That sounds dangerous.

My point is this: I don’t know what kind of person you are going to grow up to be, but I wanted to tell you today, when you are turning two, that I will love and support you no matter what you decide to do.  If I have to learn the rules to a new sport, I will do it.  If you want someone to teach you about taking a car apart and putting it back together, I swear to you that I will do it, as soon as your Uncle Big Dave gets over here to supervise.  And if, on the other hand, you want someone to come with you to Comicon, well, I’ve got that covered too.  No prep required.

So happy birthday, Buddy.  I hope that whatever we do today, you will have fun and know that it is all for you, because we love you.  And whenever you end up reading this, I hope you will at least know that I tried to be the best Dad that I could, and if you ever need anything, just call me.  I love you.

Love, Dada