Dear Jack,

Today you are 38 months old. Year three is progressing. You love to tell people you're "free" when they ask. You're working on holding up three fingers, too.

An overriding theme this month has been word play. You've created lots of characters, new games, and story plots with funny names and places. You told me a story about "Clutch Newpowers" the other day - a motorcycle rider who "rooms" faster than anyone else. "Goliaf Boot" is a giant villain who terrorizes Batman. You told me about a hero called "PUNCH UP!" (complete with an uppercut motion) who "wrestles all the time when he sees somefing." These blogs are incomplete without sound and video, since to hear you tell of these characters is a full body, auditory encounter I can't possibly relay with a few words. Unfortunately, you are only interested in the inner workings of the video camera when it comes out. I need to find a way to hide it.

You've told me many encouraging things, too, like "If you're in the water and you need my help, I will dive down to help you after I blow my whistle." Thank you, my little lifeguard.

I was impressed today when you told me, after rubbing your palm back and forth on the carpet, "My hand feels hot! Why does it?" I told you about friction and you kept asking more and more. I think I lost you at molecules and atoms, but I love the fact that you are so inquisitive and so observant of changes.

You're going to school this month. In 18 days actually, but who's counting? Thus begins the inevitable, necessary, and wonderful diminishing of my influence on you. At once I both fear and welcome this change. I won't be there when you hurt yourself on the playground, ready to supply healing kisses and encouragement to keep playing. That stings a little, for every parent, when the moment comes. But I know that there will also be a time very soon when you accomplish something and you're the only one there to appreciate it. You'll begin to build self-esteem and value these accomplishments outside of the praise and encouragement I can't escape supplying when we're together. You'll understand that independence and success are rewards for which no real fanfare is necessary. You'll start to grow up.

Do I hyperbolize this entrance into preschool? Probably. So what? It's my prerogative to do so. For three years I've created a world for you that centers around your home and your family. I've crafted a small sphere of influence that I have felt confident improves your life. I've just been there, ever present for every step.

You get to do a little bit of it on your own now. I'm really excited for you. I pray that you'll know, in your core, that the safe world of your home waits for you when things stretch you outside of the comfort of what you know. That mistakes aren't the final word. That you are loved, most deeply and without a doubt. If you know this, I've done my job.

I love you always,

Mama