Letter to Oliver – 006

Hey Bub,

It’s been a while since I wrote you one of these letters, almost a year. And what a year it’s been.

The last time I wrote a letter you had just turned 2, and now, in just a couple of months, you will turn 3. And in a week, I will turn 39.

First, and more important than anything else, I love you. I am proud of you. You are smart, kind, funny, nice, polite and learning so much so fast.

During this pandemic, I’ve been working at home and had a bunch of meetings – and your acknowledgement of ‘Daddy work calls’ has been amazing to watch. At first, it didn’t mean much to you, but now you know what it is and what it means. And when I say I need to do it alone, you’re great. And when you are able and allowed to pop-in, you are cute and (mostly) quiet and a joy to share with people.

There’s a chance that my work will continue to be like this for a long time (I’d rather not be in an office), and I feel confident that you will make it easier than it could be. Thank you.

Also during this pandemic, we’ve had the chance to spend a lot of time together as a little family. It’s the silver lining. And boy howdy am I thankful for every moment that your mom is here while I’m working or to watch you grow and learn. And because she’s an awesome mom, you are lucky too.

However, it has been sad for all of us that we haven’t had the chance to spend the time we would like to with your grandparents and aunts and uncles and our friends and at toddler time classes and all the rest. You are little and you weren’t used to a lot of things yet, but you would have been by now. I hope that when it is safe, you will get used to those things and love those things and share your shine with other people.

Part of that shine is your love for music. You love to dance. You love Foo Fighters and Arkells and Taylor Swift and songs from the Cars soundtrack. And right now you love to sing your ABCs and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star – and it is wonderful to hear you singing those songs and learning.

I’m also thankful that during these times of stress and uncertainty and doubt and anxiety – you make me smile so big and so often. You are my light. Even when you’re having a hard day or moment (especially during our new potty training journey), I know it will end and there will be hugs and smiles and laughs and songs.

You are a good little boy. You should be proud of yourself for all that you do and accomplish. I am proud of you. And I can’t wait to have more to tell you the next time I write.

I love you.