Dear Jack,

Today you are 31 months old. I'm 31 years! This is the first and last time our numbers will line up. You spent this last month charming me and terrifying me.

My son, you still don't seem to have a concept of danger. I love that you are adventurous. I want you to stay that way. But I want you to survive. You darted out the back door of a restaurant and bounded up a hill toward a very busy road. I don't know if you would have stopped, and I didn't have to find out. Our friend Rob, thank God, was a few steps closer to you and chased you down. I really am at a loss for the next step. If you did it all the time, I'd just suffer the evil stares and get you a leash. Most of the time, though, we're a team. We have fun. You don't run. I pray that you will learn soon that being aware of your surroundings is necessary.

Now about all the fun we've had. We drove to Florida on Christmas Eve and spent a week in a lovely beach house with most of my family. The picture above shows your reaction to being so close to the water. Ah. See what I mean about danger? You are oblivious. I thought this year you would really "get" Christmas and be so excited about presents. We got you a train set, and you very seriously investigated it for a long time. You didn't understand that you had a couple more gifts to open. That's okay with me.

Your cousins arrived later that day, and that was the best gift for you. It made me so happy to see how excited you are around Andrew and Liam. I like to think that you were saving up lots of love and energy to share with the big boys you only see a few times a year. You were sweet with baby Karis, too. We had so much fun that week. Before Christmas, I had made an advent calendar with little pockets, and each day you got a different sticker to put on a paper tree. You loved your "cal-en-ator" and are still asking where it is.

I haven't measured or weighed you lately, but you seem to be growing more. You'd slowed down a lot over the last six months, but you seem taller, and certainly heavier. I'd guess you're around 35 lbs. Your "winter" hair is darker than your summer blonde, and of course, you're always dirty. I have to admit that I love this about you.

One of your favorite things to say these days is "When I was a..." Like, when we saw a crane, you said, "When I was a crane, I lifted up so high to a giant's head and then I...JUMPED OVER!" You also talk about when you were a baby (and had a dragon in your castle), or when you were "older" (and drove a big car to the big town!). When a friend is leaving, or you're trying to stall on bedtime, you say, "Wait! I have an idea!" I'll say, "What is it?" You'll scramble to think of anything at all, and most of the time you give a list, like "We could...change my diaper. We could...play a game...we could...eat SMARSHSMALLOWS! Does that sound like a good idea?" You're so delightful! Talking to you is so much fun. At breakfast today you were looking at your placemat and said, "I don't like lions. They're yucky! They taste yucky! They taste like lion. They're made of lion." You're a nut.

Thanks for making my days bright, sweet boy. I hope next month I can report that you're sticking by my side a little bit better.

Love,

Mama