Friday, January 05, 2007

letter to trinity: 18 months old

Dear Trinity,

Your second christmas just passed, though this was the first year you had any idea what was going on. You really picked up on the whole thing; catching on to the idea of Santa, opening presents, knowing that all of the presents weren't solely for you, and happily handing over those to other people, albeit with the caveat that you help open them.

You got to spend this christmas at home, and besides being a big deal because you were involved, this year also marked the very first year that your Mom and I were actually at home for the holidays. Since we moved to Southern Ontario, every year has seen us dragging all of our presents, the dog, and a week or so's worth of clothes to stay with your Grandparents. Now finally, that treat is behind us. Don't get me wrong: I love your Mom's family. A lot. They have been infinitely more accepting and supportive of me than my own family ever was. (And that by the way, is the reason why you don't see my side of the family very much, in a nutshell.) But, the thing with being home is that I got away from enjoying the holidays because it involved travelling in bad weather, and not getting to relax at home.

And besides, we still went up to see them after christmas for the usual shenanigans.

So 18 months. I know how repetitive and cliched this sounds, but I really can't believe that you've been around for a year and a half. I so vividly remember the anticipation your Mom and I had while we waited for you to join us in our lives together. Its one of the very few instances that the real thing is actually so much better than you thought it would be. Most things go the other way every time, just so you know.

You have changed in this past month more than I've noticed in others I think. Your vocabulary is getting ridiculously large. We're hearing you string two word sentences together pretty easily now, and it is always a lot of fun to hear you making the connections that go along with different things. "Maya, cookie!" and "Mommy, up!" are two of my favourites lately.

You have also developed quite a taste for music now, particularly the kind that you make yourself. I think we may have a future drummer on our hands. I suppose there are worse things.

Another recent thing of yours is your decision to help out with the household chores. You have watched your Mom vaccuum so many, many times in your short life, that when someone got you a toy vaccuum for xmas, you knew exactly what to do with it and promptly started trying to clean under the closest chair.

You got spoiled rotten at christmas by the way. Not just by us, but by your Aunt Lisa, your Mommy's friend Joanne, your Aunt Beck and Uncle Dave, all your Grandparents. We could seriously upgrade to a bigger house just to properly accomodate all of the new toys in our lives. But you love playing with your stuff, so that's fun.

Here's a fun new thing you've discovered, one which I should make a huge deal out of, maybe along the lines of Columbus discovering America or something: TANTRUMS.

Yup, you've discovered them, and wow, do you go to town whilst having them. It seems that when you're asked to do something you don't like, or equally, are not given something you want immediatly, you opt now to flex your spine back like a cliff diver and scream at the top of your lungs. Which is staggeringly loud for one so very small. I haven't figured out the best way to deal with these, so I'm going with the time-honoured 'let it pass' philosophy, assuming that once you've cried yourself out about it, you might be more inclined to have another go. Reading this, you're probably old enough to have your therapist blame exactly that parental decision on any number of things that happened later in your life. Feel free to send me the bill.

You are one of the few Canadians that can say that they have seen snow this year. It snowed a little bit while you were up north with your grandparents. You were totally transfixed by it, and it was kind of too bad that it melted away by the next morning. Hopefully you'll get to see more sometime this winter so we can go out and redo my childhood make snowmen together.

One last fun thing: I am going away for my very first vacation away from you and your Mom next week. I expect you to know this by the time you can read this, (indeed, I kind of think you know already) but your Dad is a big geek. Plays with videogames, gadgets, computers. I am getting the chance to go to a big Expo for people like me this year in Las Vegas. But don't worry if you're upset that I'll be missing for a few days; I plan on stopping in at the Star Trek Gift Shop and I'll be sure to bring something back for you to wear that you will certainly hate me later for.