Letters to my daughters, 2023
Dear Charlie,
You're seven years old. Thinking about that for more than a second brings tears to my eyes.
At some point, when you boil it all down, my job is BEING HERE for you. And given my health, every birthday that I celebrate with you, every Christmas we have together, that's a freakin' win, kid.
(And yes, I used the F word, we get one a day, remember?)
I love you so much. Your mom and I are both busy people, but we try so hard to make time for you every day. It's why I love taking you to school every day. It's not often exciting, but it's something we do together every day. Play a song or two, chat about dreams we had, or something cool in Zelda, occasionally things about your school social life. But it's life together. And I am already sick over every second I'm going to miss of yours. Like, you and your sister are the most important things I've ever done. And it sucks that I don't get to see your whole life play out, at least not on this mortal plane where I'd get to hug you after every milestone.
But enough about my sadness for now. There's so much to love about you right now. Considering the difficult phase of life Codie is in, you're being an amazing big sister. The other day, you talked her through taking deep breaths to calm her down. So kind and smart.
You've got your heart on your shoulder, that's for sure. You can get hurt easily, but you also forgive easily. And you're so freakin' smart (oops – that's two!). The other day you asked me why football players are always so cold. I had no clue.
"Because of all the fans!", you said with an excited smile.
In keeping with the apple not falling far from the tree, you tend to gravitate towards all the screens.
We've started making rules like no iPad in the bathroom to fight this, in addition to some pretty strict screen time limits.
Of course, when tablet time is done, there's a Switch and TV to enjoy. We're working on it. But I do love getting to play Mario Wonder with you, and how much you love watching me play Zelda. I know soon you'll want to pick up the controller and play through it on your own. But for now, sharing a cup of grapes over Tears of the Kingdom is giving me life every time.
I always worry about what you're learning in life. I have some real concerns about you growing up here in Florida. There's a lot of hate and racism here and it's growing worse here every year. Combine that with a maligned and dysfunctional public education system and... well, I just want better for you. I want you to grow up around people who look different than you. I know you're smart, but I want to stack the deck in your favor, not against you. One day you'll get it.
For now, for 2024 though, my priority is my health.
Every time I say yes to another slice of Domino's or yes to sleeping in instead of hitting the gym, I am saying no to another Christmas with you. Another family vacation together.
But I'm holding firmly onto Hope. Let's grow together this year, okay?
Remember what you are. Te quiero mucho,
Dad
____________________________________________
Dear Codie,
You just turned three. To be candid, you're VERY tough to handle right now. For a while you would melt down at every little thing that didn't go your way. For now, you are a bit better about most of the time.
But bedtime. Oh my goodness, Codie. You won't go to bed.
We tried spanking (lightly – no one freak out), then we tried taking your stuffies away. Those worked about a single time each. So we tried being super kind and empathetic and that worked amazingly like twice. Then it didn't.
So for now, almost every single bedtime for you is a full hour of meltdown and pain in our home. It's awful. We both get so mad at you. You will literally look us in the eye at 7:30 and say that in five minutes you'll go to bed like a good girl. And 15 minutes later you've spent ten minutes going berserk about not going to bed.
Our working theory is that maybe you are having bad dreams? But you don't say that. You have said that you're scared of going to bed alone. Which is why there are like 20 stuffies in your bed every night. But there may as well be none, because they do not help you at all. Our next step that we haven't yet tried is melatonin gummies? We have to do something to fix this.
You are also in a VERY clingy phase. In the mornings you refuse to do anything if Mommy is not actively doing it with you. Go potty, get dressed, eat breakfast, it all needs Mommy's direct attention or it's morning meltdown time. At least you're consistent.
But it's not all bad. Far from it. When you're happy and playing, you're adorable. Your smile and laugh are second to none. The nonsensical dialect of "English" you've developed is like a cute trivia game every time we talk. I need to find the Duolingo course for it, but it does feel good when I interpret you properly.
And that's not to mention the hugs! You give the best hugs.
And when I come home from work, or you get home from daycare, and you know I'm in the house, I hear you before I see you. "DADDY!!" in the most gleeful tone and your little hurried footsteps racing to jump into my arms. That moment outweighs every meltdown (almost).
I look forward to seeing you grow up and I wonder what you'll be like when you turn seven.
I'm so, so, SO glad you already are starting to know and understand your affirmations. And when you are melting down and crying but you somehow manage to ask me for "deep breaths!" because you KNOW it helps calm you down? Well, it feels good to know I'm getting *something* right. That's pretty good emotional awareness for a 3 year old.
I have to go pick ya'll up now, Mommy's working late.
Amo mucho,
Daddy.