Dear Jackson | March 2015

Dear Jackson,

You are such a little boy now. I'm not even entirely sure what to write this month because everything feels like it's changing so much.

We play this game sometimes, you and I. I'll whisper a name to you, and then you'll whisper one back. Until finally I yell out JACKSON! and tickle you and you squeal like it's the biggest, best surprise you've ever had.


You always ask for more. It's a game that never gets old.

Bubbles are a thing that also never get old. Ever. You can play bubbles for hours. Literally. Just ask your dad. We've gotten to the point where we have to make sure to never utter the b-word in your presence unless we're willing to play an endless game of bubbles and end up with soap residue everywhere.

You love songs. Especially Wheels on the Bus. I think I sang it 50 times the other day. But you go all out every time. Hands circling for the wheels, beeping the horn, opening and closing the door, babies crying. You are very into it.

We go to story time at the library now. Every week it takes you a few minutes to warm up to it, but you're getting braver. Each time getting closer to the reader and venturing a couple steps away from your dad and me. I love watching you gain confidence and losing yourself in having such a good time.

You're also in swim class again. Thankfully you still seem to love it. It helps that they sing  Wheels on the Bus there too. That song is everywhere. I even hear it in my sleep.

Love you bunches,