Dear Son,

It was a guys’ night tonight. Your mom took herself out to see a movie  (Fahrenheit 11/9 – I’m sure we’ll watch it together someday, and hopefully it’ll be merely a cautionary tale of a strange blip in American history), and I picked you up from daycare. Instead of going straight home, I took you to Indian Boundary Park in Chicago, about a mile north from where we lived at the time.

It was chilly, and you were a bit underdressed, but you didn’t seem to mind. You loved being pushed in the swing, and was upset when we had to leave to come home.

We had a quiet night at home, and when it was time to go to bed, you were ready to jump in your crib to “read” your books you have in there with you. You “read” and sang to yourself for a half-hour before finally giving in to sleep.

I’m still in awe how much you grow day by day, little by little. There’s a lot weighing on my mind right now, a lot of it has to do with what’s happening politically and culturally in our country right now, but you and your mom and Jessica Jones are the silveriest of the silver linings in it all.

Love you, kid.

Dad

Son,

You turned a year and a half old today. Didn’t get much video, but it was a fun day. We went to the gym, and you felt much better about being dropped off in the Kid Center than you have before. You tripped and fell and scratched your face on the bedroom door, and I realize I’m writing this down because your mom and I feel bad about that, but you’re going to trip and fall and stumble a lot, and we’ll all learn how to deal with it, you’ll take the time you need to cry or fuss and get better, and we’ll move on from it.

You’re such a joy, kiddo. I can’t wait to experience the next 18 months with you.