Dear Ruby,
Last year, when you turned five, I wrote a letter to you, so that someday in the future you might have some idea about what life was like back during your barely remembered childhood days. I was trying to think of something equally as cool to do for you this year on my blog, but I couldn’t come up with anything good, so I decided that maybe this letter writing thing could just become a tradition. What do you think?
Hopefully you said you thought it was a good idea, because here we go.
You can read now. Like, full on reading. You can read all the Dr. Seuss books we have in the house, plus lots of other stuff as well. In short, you are amazing. You can write numbers over 1000, do some times tables, and you love to learn. Hopefully that is still the case.
We have moved since your last birthday. We’re living in Burlington now, at the co-op, which is great because you’ve made some good friends. We also have sidewalks and laundry, which you had been wanting ever since we left Baltimore. You’re in kindergarten, which has not quite killed your love of learning yet, although I do believe they are working on it. Luckily you have a good teacher who lets you mostly work at your level.
What else is going on these days? Well, mostly I am staying home all day with your brother. Edward is currently throwing cars at my head, so it is hard to think of more things to say, but I will try anyway. When I’m not home with Edward I am still singing, although closer to home these days. I started working at the church a few months ago, so I spend a lot of time doing that. Mama is working in Burlington, and she can walk or take the bus to work, so her commute is vastly improved.
You have been having some health problems this past year, which I hope are a distant memory by the time you ever read this. If they’re not, well, that’s sad, but I’m sure you are excelling in spite of them. One of the things that I love about you the most is how much you are willing to be yourself and not let things bother you. You had your first cavity filled this week, and ended up needing a crown on your tooth. Instead of being self-conscious about your silver tooth, you were so excited because you looked like a pirate. That’s awesome. You are awesome.
When I was a little boy, Toy Grammy used to tell me that she would always love me, even if I went to jail. For some reason this made a big impression on me, probably because going to jail was the worst thing I could conceive of as a kid, and it always comforted me. I want you to know as well, that no matter what you do, or where your life takes you, and even if I don’t agree with every one of your choices, I will always love you, in a way that you will never begin to understand until you have your own children. It’s not the kind of love that ever goes away. So have a happy birthday and know that you are loved and treasured. I have to go now to try to figure out how many superheroes I can realistically fit on your birthday cake. I love you.
Love, Dad