Do you know where the month of November went exactly? I seem to have misplaced it. I just sat down to begin this letter and realized that I missed writing one on or about the 4th of December. Sorry about that. I suppose we got busy.
I guess I have had a lot going on, but that's not much of an excuse. I'll make up for it with plenty of xmas pics and stories. But before I get to that:
"I wish I didn't have a family. I wish it was just me and Maya." You said those words the week before christmas, in response to having to go to sleep while we were staying up. We weren't really sure how to take this; certainly we realized that it was a knee-jerk response when you didn't get your way about staying up even later than you already had. But it was a bit of a watershed moment for us, as it was as yet the most painful thing you've ever said to either of us.
I am sure that it won't be the worst thing we'll ever hear you say to us. If you're anything like the women in either your Mom's or my family, you're not going to have a problem with verbalizing emotional states that you might regret later on.
But thankfully that is the only thing that came from you that I didn't want to hear in these last few months, at least that I can remember right now. You have been a very affectionate, curious kid lately, and you often want to engage your Mom or I in some modified play with your toys or a game. Its not enough to play the game under the rules, but you usually want to change the way the game is played and are usually chiding us to keep up. Its pretty funny and shows a depth of imagination that I am very proud of.
This month, I have been trying to get more time with just the two of us. To that end, we have gone to the theater twice, once to see 'The Princess and the Frog' and another to see 'The Chipmunks Squeakquel'. We have been going on walks together, sometimes me pulling you on the sled, sometimes you end up wrestling me in the snow. Its always a lot of fun hanging out just the two of us, and time alone with you is something that I want to do a whole lot more of. I am looking into a weekly yoga class for us to take that should start up this month. More on that next letter.
Now, to christmas. This year we tried hard not to spoil you too much. I kept trying to rein your Mom in from buying too many presents, not because I don't want to give you everything I can, but because I want you to value the things you do get. As it was it ended up being like trying to swim against the tide. I managed to convince your Mom not to go completely crazy, but we had a very large tree and it was circled by an awful pile of presents, almost every one of them for you.
Your favourite thing from us this year was a Barbie RV that your Mom wanted for you as much as she thought you might want it yourself. Nothing wrong with a little vicarious living. I admit to a certain sense of pride when you want to watch superhero cartoons with me. But once you saw that RV, you could have just as easily left the rest of the presents for next year, I think.
You got a few Barbies to go with it, a couple of dolls, and an EZ Bake oven, but that was the bulk of the toys. We got you a few games and a lot of craft supplies, in an attempt to at least get you things you might learn from, but the truth is you learn from your interactions with whatever you play with, so that's a bit of a non-issue.
The other present you got this year that you went crazy over wasn't from us at all. Your Mom's parents got you a pair of skates, and these went over very well indeed with you. It just happens that this year the lake in front of your grandparents froze over perfectly smooth, and from a spot only a few hundred yards from their beach, the lake is frozen as smooth as glass for miles onwards. This combined with only a skiff of snow meant that once we were done opening presents, we took you out on the lake to break in your skates. You loved it, and took to it amazingly well. Your Uncle Dave was good enough to give you your first skating lesson, and I have since gotten myself a pair of skates. I haven't been on a pair for a very long time, but my own Dad had me in a pair before I could walk properly, so I should be able to teach you a few tricks.
We celebrated New Year's this year the way we do most things, quietly and as a family. We stayed home for the night, had a BBQ, and set off a pile of fireworks on the front lawn. You loved that part, though you were too excited to wait until anywhere near midnight.
And thanks to a rare second full moon in one month, the night was bright enough for a very late trip to the local park. Oddly enough at almost midnight on New Year's Eve, we had the place to ourselves.
I hope you know how much you enrich my life, Trin. And I look forward to another year of adventure, challenge and reward with you.