Dear Noah,

Friday you turned two years and eight months old.

This month has been a trying one for you. We had to get our house ready to sell, and that means keeping it very neat and clean all the time. It also means putting a LOT of toys away in the garage or in closets where they aren’t easily available for playing.

This coincided with our discovering that when you are being naughty, one of the few ways we can get you to do what needs to be done — brush your teeth, take sharp objects out of your mouth, yelling at one of your mommies — is to take away a toy.

When we told you that your airplane was in the closet, you announced that you wanted to say that you were sorry to This Mommy. Our hearts broke. We now try to explain that the toys are only away to be clean, and that we can get them out and play, rather than just telling you that a toy has been put away.

That’s not to say that you’ve been an angel this month. You’ve actually been more angry and defiant than ever before. Part of it is probably being 2.5, and part of it is probably having to share our attention with Josie, and part of it is probably our getting ready to move.

The funniest thing you’ve done this week is refuse to wear pants that actually fit you. You insist that your 3T pants are too big and are really my pants. But your old pants land more than an inch above your ankles.

The second funniest thing is watching you and This Mommy sing 80s pop music together. You love to sing and listen to us sing, and you especially love to play instruments. Hardly a day goes by without you playing at least 3, maybe as many as you can find or invent. Your favorites seem to be the toy guitar, xylophone, and harmonicas.

The sweetest thing is to watch you with Josie. You coo at her in a soft voice, and firmly explain to your mommies what Baby Josie wants — her mermaid doll, to watch Rocket on TV, the parent who is unavailable…. You are a great Big Brother, and you are very proud of that fact.

We will continue trying to make this move as easy on you as possible, but I suspect that the next couple of letters will reflect it being hard on all of us.

Try to remember that we love you very, very, very much.

love,

That Mommy

Dear Noah,

Today you are 2 years and 7 months old. You continue to surprise and delight your mommies — and sometimes to frustrate us and make us wonder if we were crazy to have a second child. But mostly the first.

You love to sing, dance, and “rock out” with your musical instrument toys, especially the guitar, harmonicas, and accordion. I think you like the last two especially because they are loud!

You also love to read, and sometimes insist that instead of me or This Mommy reading to you at bedtime, you read your own book and we read a different one of your books.

You’ve been sweet and charming with Baby Josie so far — you like to play with the toys that dangle above her changing table while we change her diaper, and to gently touch her and whisper “tickle tickle.” You light up when she looks at you and announce, “Mommy! Baby Josie looking at me!” You also tell everyone you meet that you are a Big Brother. We couldn’t be more proud of you.

It obviously isn’t always easy for you, though. When she cries or fusses, you join right in with her. You’ve gotten a little more aggressive at day care, so we talk a lot about not hitting or biting. Or headbutting. And you haven’t slept very well since she and I came home from the hospital.

I think that it’s helped having each of your Grandmas’ visit this month, and doing some extra adventures with This Mommy. But I look forward to being more physically recovered so that you and I can do some special activities together too. I missed you while I was in the hospital, and I still miss our having special time together.

Even though there’s a new member of our family who needs a lot of attention right now, know that we love you more than ever. Having more people in our family to love doesn’t make everyone’s share smaller — it makes the love exponentially bigger.

love, love, and more love,

That Mommy

Dear Noah,

Yesterday, you turned exactly 2.5 years old. You kept telling us that it was your birthday, which we thought was because you wanted more of This Mommy’s birthday cake. But maybe you realized that it was your half birthday — even though I didn’t realized it until this morning.

You are getting so big and mature in so many ways. At your last doctor’s visit, they weighed you and you weigh 36 lbs — squarely at the 95th percentile for your age.

You love to sing, to “read” us the stories in your books, to make up new stories about your animals and toy dinosaurs. While your cousin Maxim was here this weekend — turning 14 months old yesterday — you were wonderful with him. You invited him to play games, shared your toys, and talked about him incessantly when he wasn’t there.

You also learned to kiss this month. And by kiss, I mean that you no longer open your mouth and press it against the face of the person you are kissing. Instead, you close your mouth and do the same pucker-smack action that grown-ups do. This may be my favorite of your recent developments!

In the last month, you’ve been really sweet with your mommies. We had a hard last month — my job is going away, the fridge in our garage broke and ruined lots and lots of food, and you and I were in a car accident with a very naughty lady who ran a red light right in front of us. The couple of times you’ve seen me crying or looking sad, you’ve given me hugs and kisses and tried to help me to be happy. It works, sweet boy.

Not that you don’t have your difficult moments. It would make all of our lives easier and more pleasant if you would either use the potty or let us change your diaper when we tell you that it’s time. And the wrestling match that takes place to brush your teeth is possibly the single most frustrating part of being your mommies right now.

We know that diaper changes and toothbrushing is boring. It would be faster and less disruptive if you could just do it yourself, and quickly. Then we could move on to playing piano, or reading, or doing something else fun.

By the time I write the next letter, you will have a new baby sister at home. I think it’s going to be something of a shock for you, but hopefully you’ll like being a big brother. And no matter what happens, you will always be my dear sweet boy. Words don’t even express how much I love you.

Dear Noah,

Yesterday, you turned 2 years and 4 months old. On the same day, your cousin Maxim celebrated his first birthday. The two of you haven’t met yet, but you will.

The last month has been rough on you. You left Miss Heather’s home day care and started at “school” at our church. In a somewhat unlucky wave of timing, your slot opened up a week before the church school began its annual classroom transition. So you had a good 1.5 weeks in Mrs. Betty’s class, another sorta-good 1.5 weeks partially with Mrs. Betty and partially in your class for the next year, and most recently, a few days fully in your class with Mrs. Louise and Mrs. Shirley.

I think you’re going to like it, but you are SICK of dealing with change. A lot of mornings in the last 2 weeks, you’ve cried, insisted that it wasn’t actually morning and you weren’t going to leave your room, and asked me to stay with you and not go to work. You’ve also stepped up the arguing and yelling at us, especially at transitional moments during the day (time to go upstairs or downstairs, time to leave the house, time to get in or out of the bath or bed).

We feel really good about your new school. Both the Director and the Curriculum Manager have stopped me to tell me about checking in on you, how you were doing, and in one case, what they did that helped you feel better. (Playing golf, oddly enough.)

In the first class, several of your teachers commented on how verbal you are. In the new class, they’ve already enlisted our help in discouraging your newfound passion for throwing toys that are clearly not toys meant to be thrown. In both cases, I feel like they’re paying attention to you, and that your interests and development are important to them.

We’re going to try to keep your schedule as calm and routine as possible this summer, except for one 4-day trip to Milwaukee for a wedding and time to spend with Grandma & Grandpa, and some of our other friends and family there.

We hope you will feel comfortable and secure in your new environment, with your new friends and teachers, well before your baby sister arrives.

Your mommies love you, Noah. Never doubt it for a moment.

love,

That Mommy

Dear Noah,

On Saturday, you turned 2 years and 3 months old.

You sing your ABCs almost every day. If we sing along, you make it through the entire song with pretty good accuracy. If we watch you sing, you generally skip from about G to W, belting out the “next time won’t you sing with me?” And then you yell “Yay!” and clap enthusiatically.

You love identifying letters, especially when they’re written in bright colors. “That a D! That a red B!”

Even more than letters, you seem to love counting. You can reliably count objects, in real life or books, to about 6. And you can reliably count to 10 if you are counting for it’s own sake, not concrete items.

You love testing your independence, wanting to brush your teeth, cut your food, turn on and off the lights, and put on your shoes yourself. “I do it! I do it! I try! I try!”

But when you hit a wall — too many new people or experiences, or too tired — you hit it hard. Then all you want is for me to carry you, your face buried in my shoulder.

I think you’re at your best balance of loving and independent when we’re out in public in a place that’s new to you. You’re willing to hold Mommy’s hand, and even Grandma’s. But you gleefully pull us along to see the next exciting thing, whether that’s crossing the street or seeing another animal at the zoo.

Incidentally, speaking of the zoo, it would be totally ok with me if you quit talking about seeing the elephant pooping.

Your mommies love you.

love,

That Mommy

Dear Noah,

Last week, you turned 2 years and 2 months old.

Your language skills continue to explode. This month, you’ve started singing entire songs. Sure, you skip some of the words, and others are perhaps not standard, but that just makes the ABCs, “Uh-Oh, Weasel!” and “Pocket Rosie” all the cuter.

We pulled you from your second day care “school” — Friday was your last day. There were a few reasons. First, you came home about 6 weeks ago using words that we thought weren’t appropriate for a little guy your age. When we raised a concern about them, they said, “Oh no. He absolutely didn’t learn that here.” We don’t think you learned it from us, or at church.

Then, you fell and broke your wrist. Both bones.

The next week, you told This Mommy your teacher was scary.

For the next 5 weeks, you’ll be going to Miss Heather’s house for day care. We hope you’ll like it. Then you start at the day care at church.

Also, this week, we told you that you are having a baby sister. You said “No! I not having baby sister!”

Sorry buddy, but I’m afraid that part looks pretty real. But don’t worry, it isn’t happening for awhile. And you will always be our little Teee-hah and funny boy.

love,

That Mommy and This Mommy

Dear Noah,

A month ago, you turned 2 years old. I thought this explosion of language and growth might slow down after your birthday, but I was wrong.

Since you turned 2, you’ve become more interested in trying everything around you — cooking, cleaning up, drinking my coffee. Some things you don’t especially enjoy, like brushing your teeth. And when we want you to do something against your inclination, you make your displeasure known in more dramatic and frustrating ways. Like peeing on the floor, if you happen to be getting ready for bed at the time. (Would you mind growing out of that phase soon?)

You have become much more specific in your interests and requests, for example:

• Mommy, watch Diego and Dora and dinosaurs!
• Mommy, let’s kick the ball!
• Mommy, where baby triceratops go?
• Want chocolate milk in big boy cup!
• Read new dinosaur book again!

This month, you’ve also moved from your crib to your Thomas bed — a real big boy bed. You are pretty good about staying in bed when it’s nap time or bed time, but occasionally, you get up on your own. When that happens, you usually open your door and call for Mommy.

Your This Mommy and I love you so much. Never doubt it for a minute.

love,

That Mommy