Dear Simon,

Today you are seven!

Simon Culkin-Kagle

Before we head off to a cabin in the woods to celebrate the day, let's walk back in time to recapture your seventh year.

Simon's first grade star-of-the-week poster

WE SURVIVED!

It started out simple enough. You attended a few one-week day camps with friends: Spy Camp, Aviation Camp, and Art Camp. You were nervous and resisted attending, but once you were there you absolutely loved every minute of them. For the 4th of July, Grammy visited Mountain View and watched the fireworks sail over the Shoreline Golf Course with friends and snacks. We lost Adlai for a bit and then Grammy disappeared after him but, heck, you had cookies and Calvin. I'm not even sure you noticed.

Bonding with Adlai

With Adlai on the couch

With Adlai in the backyard

In August, you flew with Daddy and Adlai to New York for a few days to visit Grandma Whee, the Feefadders, an enormous avocado, and a flaming pupu platter. You then drove through four states, ending in Cape Cod, where you fell asleep, woke up, and picked me up at the airport. We spent the remainder of the week eating fried seafood, getting sandy and wet, and listening carefully for the jingle of the ice cream truck. It was while having dinner with the Feefadders in Cape Cod that we learned your kindergarten teacher had been promoted to first grade right along with you! You were so relieved to have the same teacher. The stress of entering first grade completely melted away and we were able to enjoy the remainder of the summer in peace.

In Cape Cod

Cold in Cape Cod

With Adlai in Boston

Well, peace until you started school. The first month or so of school you were overwhelmed by the sheer length of the day. And then there was real math and real homework. And then it seemed all of your classmates were reading above your level (because they were). You hated the food we bought you through the hot lunch program and you were not a fan of working in groups with bossy girls who constantly told you "You're doing it wrong! You're doing it wrong!". You had a hard time adjusting to these additional stresses. You stopped eating. You lost a lot of weight. You were miserable. But you didn't give up.

Costa Rican ox cart project

New bike - a bit too big

Art on the front porch

You hung mathematical equations from your bedroom ceiling. You focused on your homework and, even though you found it difficult and frustrating and sometimes crumpled the assignments into balls and tossed them across the room, you always got the work done and you did it well. You practiced reading every night. You wrote your letters over and over and over and over again. You quizzed us on addition and subtraction, multiplication and division day and night. You lamented that college was so gosh darn far away. Couldn't you just leave these ridiculously immature first graders behind and concentrate on REAL SCIENCE?

Pincipal's award for "Caring"

Ethnic day - we borrowed an ethnicity

Dr. Simon Kagle

We took you to Disneyland in mid-November and you found the idea of lines, rides, and dark and loud shows overwhelming. The only part of the vacation you wanted anything to do with was the swimming pool at the hotel. And so we swam. And we swam. And we swam. After swimming we did more swimming. And then some T.V. watching. And then we bought junk food and ate it. You may remember this as a great vacation. Your dad and I, having purchased several days of enormously expensive tickets to the theme park attached to the hotel, found it deeply frustrating.

Choosing a pumpkin to carve

Ride on a steam train

With Cousin Sarah at Discovery Kingdom

Luckily, by Thanksgiving, we were able to find you some relief. Not coincidentally, you also started reading well enough that you caught up with the more advanced kids in your class. As we drove down the freeway you read the signs. One day you asked me: "What's a Hyatt?" and I knew reading had finally clicked.

Amusing school work

Reading and writing

Letter left for "the Tooth Fairy".

We stayed close to home for the winter holidays - scheduling playdates and visiting with California family. For mid-winter break, we flew to Seattle for your cousin Devon's wedding which allowed you to see all six of your cousins from both sides of your family in the very same day. We stayed in the Seattle area for most of that week enjoying the snow, an indoor water park, and an all Kagle-boy festival. It was the BEST. VACATION. EVER! For a week after we returned, you and Adlai were down in the dumps. Oh how you wish you could see those Kagle cousins more often.

With Cousin Bradley

About to go sledding

Conversation with Adlai

It was also late in the year when you started to develop deeper friendships. You, Steven, Andreas, and David started a sleuthing business of some sort. For a while there you brought home "clues" from school -- what the untrained eye might call bags of garbage you found on the playground -- and "maps" that you had drawn with your buddies. We've had a lot of playdates this year but not with these new school friends. As it turns out, your dad and I have, so far, only befriended the parents of the girls in your class. Historically, you have had an equally good time with boys and girls but, lately, the girls have been acting more, well, "girly". At one recent playdate a female friend wanted to play "house" and at another playdate there was ribbon dancing. You are completely confounded by this behavior. It sets you off your guard. Why would anyone in their right mind gently twirl or pretend to do housework when they could just as easily ram themselves into a tower of pillows, play kick the ball over the roof, or smash grapefruit against the windows? I worry that the days of our playdates with girls from school are numbered.

Fun with friends

Enjoying tea

Waiting for lessons with Adlai

Luckily there is still movie night! We've continued the tradition of having friends over for pizza and a movie every Saturday all year. We all look forward to movie nights. Your dad and I get the company of adult friends and you get the pleasure of relaxing with buddies. Your favorite movie this year was G-force. It appeals to the slapstick animal-loving inventor in you.

Movie night

Saturday morning in a fort and pajamas

With Hana and Lily

Your personal learning goal for the year was to "Get better in science" so we spent as much time as we could in the spring taking you to museums, reading to you about physics, working on science experiments and enjoying NPR Science Fridays. Grammy bought you a subscription to Popular Science which you mull over in your room all by yourself. You haven't picked a favorite science subject yet - you are fascinated by them all. You especially liked a physics book and a book about inventing and you LOVE weather. It's been an odd weather year - stormy in June - and your analysis of cloud formations and potential weather patterns has come in handy. If a tornado would just stop by, life would be perfect.

Conservatory of Flowers, SF

Fire from playdoh

Loss of the first upper tooth

It was also late in this year that your physical coordination finally started to kick in. You are strong and quick and less apt to trip over your own feet. You are a good ball player. You love to make up your own games or play two-square, four-square, and soccer. Your favorite solo activity is still zooming through the house pretending that you are... well... I don't really know, but I know you appear to be in charge and the hero and there is a lot of physical fighting, running, jumping, and flying.

Getting bigger, fitting the bike better

In the park with Adlai

Running in Mountain View

Yoga with Hana

This year you gained fifteen pounds, two sizes in shoes, two sizes in clothes, eleven levels in reading, and an equally amazing level jump in writing. You won an award for being caring, discovered Beyblades, attended your first Giants game, and went out alone on a date to ice cream with your favorite school principal. You gave up your car seat, learned to lap swim alone across a pool, conquered your fears of riding a bike and the sound of electric clippers, spoke in front of your school at two assemblies, tried ice skating and laser tag, wrote your first book report, and expertly recited your lines as "Card Number Four" on stage in Alice in Wonderland. You learned to build and control Lego robots, made brownies over a campfire, fed and loved our cats, and tried hard to be a patient and loving friend, brother, and son.

Weighing yourself

Card Number Four

On ice skates

Out with Ms. Hersey

I couldn't be more proud. Now, Mr. Seven-Year-Old, let's go camping. I've packed some candles to put on your s'mores.

First day of school cake

Love,

Mama (Daddy, Adlai, Hanalei, and Princess Lily)

More?
Simon turns six
Simon turns five
Simon turns four
Simon turns three
Simon turns two
Simon turns one
Simon is born

Even more?
Adlai turns three
Adlai turns two
Adlai turns one
Adlai is born

Posted by kagledom at 12:00 AM | Permalink

Dear Simon,

Today you are six.

Unlike turning four or five, you've really been looking forward to turning six. A few months ago, when we spotted your six year molars pushing through, you were absolutely delighted that your body was ahead of your actual age. I know this because you shouted, "My body thinks I'm already SIX!" This desire to mature and become a little more independent from us has been a long time coming. Your desire to wash, dress, and prepare food and feed yourself has been battling it out with your desire to be our baby all year long. Earlier in the year, you expressed your anxiety about getting married or going to college. Once we assured you you could live at home, you finally relaxed. Also, Daddy told you about the endless supplies of sugary cereals in college cafeterias; now you're ready to sign up.

 
 

Your summer last year was filled with preschool in the mornings and play at home in the afternoons. On weekends we took you to the beach or to museums, theme parks, trains, boats, and other local attractions. In the evenings, we worked to convince you (and ourselves) that kindergarten was going to be GREAT! You were angry about starting a new school, you desperately missed the Feefadders, and you became convinced that eating wasn't necessary. You stopped paying attention to your teachers and occasionally refused to do what they asked. And this is why you started the school year without any ability to read or write. As one of the youngest in your class, we worried you would be left behind.

Graduation from preschool
 
Boat tour under the Golden Gate
 
The Mystery Spot, Santa Cruz

On your first day of school, Daddy and Adlai took you to Burger King for lunch, I came home from work, realized that you had spilled ketchup all over your shirt and were wearing your shorts on backwards, helped you quickly change and, together, we walked into your new classroom to drop you off. Three and a half tense hours later, we picked up a very happy boy. You love school. You love your teacher. You love your principal. You love everything about learning. What a relief!

 
 

It is hard to believe how far you have come. You can write your own stories in complete sentences. You can read books to us. You draw yourself as something other than a stick with dots for eyes and a line for a mouth. Daddy has moved you past addition and subtraction and gone right to algebra. When we were in Ohio last month, you delighted at your cousin Sarah's quizzing you about science. She asked you about atoms, matter, the solar system, and weather and you answered each question with authority. Those thirty minutes with Sarah probably increased your confidence in yourself one hundred fold.

Silly in the backyard
 
Rocket launching at NASA
 
Experiments at the Tech Museum

You absolutely love science: chemistry, astronomy, biology, electrical, or atmospheric. Given the opportunity to watch a cartoon or a video lecture on the solar system or how something works, you will always choose the educational option. Last fall, on our trip to Disneyland, you insisted we throw coins into the wishing well at Toon Town and you took a moment, closed your eyes and wished with all your heart to become "a famous scientist." And then you wished it a second time and a third in case the well didn't quite hear you.

Wishing into the fountain
 
Chemistry for Christmas
 
Experiments with cloning

This year has been a big year for travel. In August we spent some time with Grandma Whee in New York celebrating her birthday followed by our annual trip to Cape Cod. In November, we treated you to a surprise weekend in Disneyland. We picked you up from school and drove for two hours before you finally asked where we were going. We flew to Houston in January to visit your Oma and Aunt Jackie, Oahu in February to celebrate Spring break with your Kagle cousins and the Feefadders, and Ohio in May to bury Grandpa Ewing.

Grandma Whee's birthday
 
Relaxing in Cape Cod
 
Where are we going?
 
Happy in Disneyland
 
Three generations outside Houston
 
Three generations in Mountain View
 
Kagle Cousins in Hawaii
 
Kagle Cousins in Hawaii

I can't thank you enough for being such a wonderful travel companion. I feel like I can take you anywhere and you'll be my little ambassador. Whereever we go, strangers are impressed with your incredible kindness and good behavior. While in Ohio, you enthusiastically volunteered to bury your Grandpa Ewing. After filling the hole with dirt, you went back to the van and cried because you were sad that he was gone. (Even though I'm pretty sure you don't remember meeting him.)

 
 

You can't wait until Adlai is old enough to play with "like a five year old" but that hasn't stopped you from engaging him with play at any level possible. You are patient and understanding and rarely get upset when Adlai destroys your creations or runs off with your toys. You've mostly figured out what sets Adlai off into a tantrum and you always attempt to make him feel better. If he cries because he doesn't have the same thing you have, you offer to share whatever the object is just to make him happy. The two of you particularly enjoy running around the house or yard or coming up with new dance moves. You love when Adlai copies your words and moves. It makes you laugh which makes him laugh which makes you laugh even harder.

Hiller Aviation Museum
 
 
You asked: "Adlai, do you want to hold my thumb?" Adlai said: "Thank you!"

You are a champion of goodness and happiness and nothing makes you more upset than seeing one of your friends in trouble. You were given the Principal's award this year for Citizenship in part because you were so nice to a new boy in your class on his first few days. We've also heard from another family that you skipped recess to sit next to their boy when he was forced to skip recess as a punishment. You are shocked when people are mean to each other or lie to their parents or do "something bad" on purpose. You won't watch shows or read books in which characters get into trouble. When Adlai requests that I read a Curious George books you run from the room, hands over your ears.

 
 
 

You listen with rapt attention when your Dad talks about science, video games, and his life experiences. You're pretty sure that I know nothing important, but you love me anyway. I'm good for snuggling and am probably more likely to give you what you want.

Winner of the cake walk AND the "grassiest" cake!
 
Earth Day park cleanup with your class.

Although in this past year you've conquered your fears of being suffocated by helmets, life vests, goggles, and deep water, you're now afraid of having anything in your mouth with the wrong texture. You have learned to spit the food out into a napkin but, seriously, the amount of food you need to spit out makes this an obnoxious habit that you need to overcome.

 
Your kindergarten class

You are a social creature and without social interaction, particularly new social interactions, you are easily bored. In January, we started a weekly movie night to help rectify this problem. We invite one or two of your friends families and you kids play, eat, and watch a movie while we adults take time to catch up and relax. We also try to break up the mundane by celebrating: Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's, St. Pat's, Passover, Easter, birthdays, loose and lost teeth, and school events, we hit them all. We prepare. We enjoy. It gives us something to do. Last fall we even celebrated the birthday of Balcony, your stuffed kitten.

Halloween (You're Ben 10)
 
Hanukkah
 
Christmas
 
New Years Eve
 
Valentine's Day
 
Passover (reading the four questions)
 
Balcony's birthday

You've been playing soccer since Winter, which you actually enjoy, and you still take swim lessons once a week. You can freestyle yourself across a pool and swim to the bottom of the shallow end like a catfish searching for a meal. I love to watch you swim. The teachers say you will be promoted to the next class - swimming alone in the deep end - as soon as you realize that you ARE, IN FACT, SWIMMING. Confidence, my boy, we need to work on that.

 

Since you have been old enough to express yourself, the one object you've wanted most has been a cat. When you were two you collected stuffed cats and carried them whereever you went, when you were three you pretended to be a cat, when you were four you drew Daddy a card asking for a cat. Just over a week ago, and after a painfully long wait, we brought two cats into the family. You play with them, you talk with them, you love them and your laughter at watching them, well, it's contagious...

They make you deliriously happy. You make us deliriously happy. I guess it all works out.

 
 

Happy Birthday!

Love,

Mama (and Daddy and Adlai too)

Posted by kagledom at 12:01 AM | Permalink

Dear Simon,

Today you are FIVE.

Five has always seemed to me to be the age at which a kid is really a kid – no longer dependent on care givers for personal maintenance, decision making, boo boo kissing, or constant supervision. I’m glad these are not hard set requirements of being five because I’m not altogether ready to let go of Simon, the baby. As it turns out, you’re not ready to let go either - you really like being coddled and cuddled - so together we're going to navigate this brave new age of five - pretending for a while longer that you actually need my help.



This was a pretty huge year in terms of personal accomplishments. You started the year off by taking a soccer class – your first introduction to the sport. You were the youngest and every other kid had clearly been eating, breathing, and watching nothing but soccer since birth. The coach terrified you so you just wouldn’t participate. And then he had a family emergency and the new coach was much more your style. You enjoyed yourself after that but, when it was over, you decided that soccer really isn’t for you. In your words, it involves “too much running back and forth.”

You started to become more afraid of things this year and it comes on so suddenly that it is sometimes hard to know when you’re kidding. When we went to Cape Cod, you claimed to be afraid of the hermit crabs at low tide and there was some stress about watching the fireworks display on the Fourth of July. It has become clear that your chief fear is noise. Once the noise starts, you’re usually fine but the anticipation that something will be too loud is a big concern. We had to take you to your pre-kindergarten checkup TWICE because the first time you absolutely refused the hearing test. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t convince you that the headphones were going to play a quiet beep. The second appointment wasn’t much easier. Luckily, the medical staff was very accommodating and finally allowed you to control the sound machine which solved the problem. You wouldn't agree to a birthday party this year unless we agreed that there would be "NO SINGING AND NO CLAPPING" after you blew out the candles. Your party theme was "space" so we all pretended we were in space where it is silent - we also kept the party small so there would be less screaming.

Two weeks before you started your new preschool class, you were finally (mostly) potty trained. We waited for you to be ready for four years as your doctor and most other experts suggested but, by the end of Summer, we were SO done with diapers. You were the size of a five-year-old. Diapers no longer fit so things didn’t stay in the way they should. I put together “Potty Scotty Day” where we trained the doll and then we talked about what to do and practiced how to do it from where ever you were and then we put you in underwear, dropped you off at school and hoped for the best. Potty training you has been the longest and most frustrating journey of parenthood so far. And I think I can speak for your Dad as well as myself when I say that, almost a year later, we still get a thrill when we hear the thud, thud, thud of your feet running down the hallway followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing behind you. I fully expect that the joy of this accomplishment is going to take years to wear off.

Your reward for being potty trained was a road trip to Southern California including a day at Disneyland, a day at Disney’s California Adventure, and a day at Lego Land. You were absolutely at your best from the moment we left the house until a few hours before we returned. Watching you enjoy the rides (those without scary dark tunnels) and the shows (those without scary fire) was an incredible experience. Even more than the theme parks, you were delighted to be in the hotel rooms and to spend the night next to Daddy with me and Adlai nearby. You burst into tears as we drove up to our house, crying “I want to go back to the hotel!” Even though you are an excellent sleeper these days – always staying in your own room and even sleeping in – you remain a firm believer in co-sleeping. And the sad truth is, we wouldn’t mind co-sleeping one bit if you could stay still and quiet and fall sleep when we brought you into our bed. You're looking forward to the day when Adlai is old enough to sleep in your room - we'll just have to find a way for the two of you to be far enough apart that you don't attack him with your elbows, knees, or give him a full body blow while you "peacefully" slumber.

Fall and Winter of your fifth year was filled with preschool in the mornings, twice weekly play dates with Tessa and Lisa in the afternoons, and lots and lots of celebrations. We had a Halloween party including the traditional games of touching the “monster bits” and grossing out over the slimy grape eyeballs and cold noodle brains. We celebrated the return of the Feefadders by decorating their home in spirals you cut out of construction paper (to practice your use of scissors). We celebrated Thanksgiving and, for the first time, you ate the traditional foods. We celebrated post-Thanksgiving (two additional gatherings with friends) soon followed by Hanukkah and Adlai’s first birthday, and Christmas then New Years and Valentine’s Day. For each celebration we made decorations during your special “craft time” - the half hour after Adlai passes out for the night.

We instituted craft time after meeting with your teachers and discovering that you, my dear, are a perfectionist. Before we started craft time, you were afraid of making a mistake in your artwork so you decided that, instead of failing, you just wouldn't try at all. Your teachers were not pleased with this attitude but within a week of giving you personal attention over nightly crafts, they couldn’t say enough about your transformation. You write your own name, you draw representational objects, and you cut like a pro.

Although you really enjoy being crafty, your favorite subject is science. You love hearing about space and how things grow and change and die and start again. You want to be a doctor and a scientist and a rabbi and an artist and a teacher and an architect and a meteorologist. You are fascinated by tornadoes and earthquakes and completely disappointed that they don’t happen near you on a daily basis. You still love water and I’ve actually seen you swim on your own - in a pinch. You like to build things – especially couch cushion towers and forts. You love to have books read to you. You know all your letters and their sounds and have become interested in reading and writing on your own.

In February of this year, we had a frightening incident that I imagine you will always remember. Your mind checked out with your eyes wide open in school for long enough that the teachers realized something was very wrong. We took you to the hospital and you had a CT scan on your head in the “donut machine” and an hour-long brain wave scan. It turned out to be nothing – possibly a precursor to the flu you came down with two days later. Daddy and I pretended that it wasn’t a big deal because we didn’t want you to be scared but OH MAN were we scared. The idea that something could have been wrong with your brain and could have required immediate attention has left an everlasting mark upon us. Nothing bad must happen to you EVER. It just isn’t allowed.



Even though your brother is now old enough to steal your toys, topple your towers, and finds it funny to bonk you on the head, you remain a very devoted older sibling. You are remarkably understanding and patient and, most of the time, you include him in your play. The two of you really like to chase after each other, make farting noises, and bonk yourselves on the head and say “OW!” You know how to make him laugh so well that driving with the two of you for any period of time is never a problem. Of course, it is a problem for Daddy who is required to listen to your music over and over while the two of you sing and laugh and make fart noises and squeal with delight. Poor Daddy, required to suffer through such loud exclamations of joy coming from the back seat. (I somehow suspect that he doesn’t mind nearly as much as he claims.)

You have made some new close friends at school this year. You and Sawyer are inseparable partners, pretending you are birds and building nests and going on treasure hunts, and you’ve become close to the three Aidens and Beckham. You have a fiancé named Riley but you’ve told her that you won’t marry her until she converts to Judaism so that you can be married by a Rabbi. (Your words and ideas, not ours.) Since visiting your Kagle Cousins, you have become absolutely obsessed by Pokémon. No word yet if your fiancé likes Pikachu – that might be another sticking point in your relationship -that and separation by Kindergarten.

Age four has been my very favorite age so far (especially after the terrifying threes and the terrible twos). You’re such a good kid. You’re funny and talkative and conscientious. Most of the time you listen and you try really hard to make us happy. When you misbehave you often get upset at yourself before we even say a thing. Your real talent still lies in your social skills. It is impressive to watch you have adult-level conversations with our friends – impressing them with all of your biggest words and concepts – and switch to child-friendly conversation as soon as one of your friends enters the room. You stand up for your friends when they need it (even if they are being scolded by an adult) and you make up your own mind instead of following behavior you know will get you into trouble. Unfortunately, you've also become much more shy and cautious this year and you've lost a lot of confidence in yourself. I suppose that was inevitable but it still makes me sad.

What I have enjoyed most about you this past year is that I really, totally “get” you. I can anticipate your choices and how you will feel about something with incredible accuracy. I know when something is going to hurt you and what will bring the biggest smile to your face. I know when you’re pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and when you’re holding yourself back – unready to make the next step. I understand why certain foods won’t go in your mouth and why you won’t wear shirts with designs or words. (I don’t know why you’re the only kid who won’t wear goggles in swim school but I enjoy that you hold firm against peer pressure.)



One of the activities that most occupies your time these days is what you call "dreaming." To the untrained eye it might look like you are a nut - running back and forth and jumping and turning and swinging for hours on end - but, from your expressions, it is clear that, in your mind, a lot more is going on. You're catching Pokemon. You're forging rivers. You're jumping off cliffs and flying through the sky. I remember actively "dreaming" myself and I'm glad that you've found a place, in your imagination, where anything is possible.

Dear, five-year-old Simon, I'm finishing off this letter on a cool June day while watching you swing back and forth on the blue disc in the dappled shade of the big tree in the backyard. You smile. You've thought of something funny. You lean back the wind whips at your hair. You stop to consider something for a moment before pushing off - back toward the sky. You'll come over and talk with me soon - you'll ask a question or have come to an interesting conclusion before returning to your swing. We'll do this for hours.



Now you've come over to sit on my lap and listen to me read this letter and tell you again that I love you.

Happy Birthday.

Mama (and Daddy and Adlai too)

Posted by kagledom at 07:03 AM | Permalink

Dear Simon,

Today is a big day in your life (or so you think). You're four years old. You've dreaded this day coming for the past two months so, after today, I hope you'll realize that we love you just as much right now as we did yesterday. And tomorrow? Tomorrow we'll love you even more. You'll always be our baby no matter how tall you grow, how much you take care of yourself, how old you become, or how far you travel. And, yes, I know I ended your blog, but you're a year older and someone needs to give you the highlights of the past year. Here it goes...

You're four! Holy cow.

As far as your life goes, this was the year of stability or, at least, more stability. You started out the year as a three-year-old visiting family in Texas and made your way over to a Disney vacation in Florida and then on to Massachusetts before landing in our new home. Maybe that doesn't sound so stable but hey, we've been here ever since and we didn't even move "permanently" across the country once.

You immediately took to the new place (although, for a while, every time we passed our temporary apartment you asked to go back "home"). Your bedroom is the best room in the house - the only room with a big bright window. And the house has two yards! You've spent lots of time outside in our yards over the past year. When friends came over you would entice them to run in circles in the front. And no one (except your Grandparents) would believe me if I recounted all the hours you've spent swinging on the tree swing in the back. For your birthday this year, you recieved the most magnificent play structure. This purchase has caused us a lot of angst. You fell madly and deeply in love with the structures at the store but putting it in meant putting a lot of money into the yard - something we were not quite ready to do. You'll notice that your parents are cheap and have a problem spending money - except when you fall in love with something. Please use this information wisely.

Besides being outside, your interests this year have included learning about space and nature, hearing about princesses (the kind that are pretty as well as interesting), maps, music, ball games, books and art and writing, pretending for hours with your stuffed friends, swimming, asking "why" and "how", cooking and spending time with adults. You're still much more interested in adult gadgets and pretending than all the bazillion toys we own. You eat like a horse and you've expanded your repertoire of food a great deal to the point where you will try almost everything (if it looks reasonably edible) and sometimes you are pleasantly surprised by the results. "Meatlow" was an eye opening experience; if we tell you something is "like meatlow," you're much more trusting of the results.

You've been going to school two days a week since late August and you've loved every minute of it. Your friends Calvin and Skye were already in the class, so it took you negative two seconds to adjust to the routine. Apparently you and Calvin caused quite a stir in the beginning but, as the year progressed, those smart teachers found ways of lowering the noise level of class by suggesting you sit separately. I don't know what happens to your brain when you come into contact with your three year old friends. You shriek and dance and run and jump and then we get a call from the school to learn that you've passed out on their welcome mat, AGAIN. Until a few months ago, sleep was a continuous problem. We gave up giving you a nap last August because we were tired of you staying up past our bedtimes but without a nap you became belligerent by the early afternoon. Given an hour or two of crazy-tired behavior you'd bounce right back into normal Simon mode but it was really hard to deal with you in crazy-tired mode. (See the time you got angry and decided to run away.)

I think one of the things that defines you as a person is that there is no way that you will ever be overwhelmed by having too many people paying attention to you. Oh you'll pretend to be shy for a minute or two and then WHAM out comes the real Simon: the comedian, the aggressive hugger, the inquisitor. We can take you anywhere and you'll find friends in a matter or moments but sometimes, especially when the kids are older, they reject you and it is very hard to watch. At school you've had some problems with being too gregarious - in combination with your large stature, some kids have found you overwhelming.

But parents of kids at school frequently tell us how their daughters talk about you incessantly. We have an enormous collection of your art projects (art is your favorite subject) AND we have a large collection of art that has been bestowed upon you by your girlfriends. Girlfriends, at three! On some days you are going to marry both Tessa and Lisa and then you run into an attractive twelve year old somewhere and you find yourself drawn to her. That is until you see Elissa, our horticulturalist. Elissa is the end all and be all of women. She has tools, she is super strong, she isn't afraid of walking stoically through sprinklers, and she is so very very knowledgeable about plants and dirt. It makes me proud to watch you woo her at every opportunity. I hope, twenty to thirty years from now, you find an Elissa of your own. I'm pretty sure this Elissa isn't interested.

We bought a couple of child rearing books this past year to help us work through some "issues" and both of them were targeted toward the parents of "strong willed" children. It was actually refreshing to have a label for you: strong-willed. We were tired of comparing you to your friends and coming up with "WHY THE HECK DOESN'T HE JUST LISTEN LIKE ___ OR DRESS HIMSELF LIKE ___ OR USE THE TOILET LIKE PRACTICALLY EVERY OTHER KID WE KNOW?" The problem is that you don't feel subservient to us *at all* or to your teachers or grandparents. No, you do things because you WANT to do them and convincing you that we are in charge and you must do things you don't want to do has been particularly painful this past year. Sometimes we can make a game out of the activity but mostly we have to offer two warnings before a time out to make you stop and listen. We've also learned that we really can't force you to do things and, for the most part, you could care less about incentives. This all came to a head after Adlai was born and you decided if we were going to "replace" you, you were going to replace us. You even had Calvin's parents all picked out.

So whoever came up with the "terrible twos" had clearly not met a three-year-old like you (unless the "terrible twos" were followed by the "horrific threes"). I have convinced myself, however, that being strong-willed makes you a more interesting child and will make you a more interesting adult. How could it not? The self confidence and sheer determination it takes to maintain your opinions no matter how much pressure you endure from peers and those in authority is amazing.

Despite being occasionally difficult, most of the time you are very silly and sweet and incredibly polite. You're always trying to make us laugh. Recently you've started to recite the beginnings of your own jokes and ask us to make up a punch line. It has been a tradition this past year to put you to bed with a story of your own creation and these stories are inevitably about someone going out into the world to seek their fortune after falling out of a tree and landing on their head, having a name that is impossible to say, or experiencing some difficulty with their bowels. When one of us is having a bad day, you're quick to offer helpful suggestions (like going outside to play with you). You also frequently remind us how much we are loved with words as well as hugs and kisses. When you were mad at me the other day I took a break to be alone in our room. The door cracked open a bit and in came a hand offering me your prized treasure chest full of coins. I went over and passed a coin back under the door. A little hand silently passed the coin back. We did this for a while until I grabbed a piece of paper and drew a heart with your name and passed it under the door instead. The door opened and you gave me a big hug before running off to show Daddy the heart.

What has impressed me most about you this past year is how you took so quickly to your brother. Clearly you felt you were being replaced but your love for Adlai was instant and never wavered. You were there as we drove to the hospital and held my hand without letting go once as I was pushed in a wheel chair to Labor and Delivery. After dinner with your Grandparents, you returned to the hospital to meet and hold your new brother. The hardest part of the whole experience for me (besides the intense pain) was being away from you that night. That was the first night we'd ever spent apart and I think the significance was not lost on you.

You've been such a great big brother. You're patient and (mostly) gentle and eager to help. You love to kiss and hug Adlai and, from the very beginning, have been overheard telling him "You're my best friend." and "You're a dream come true!" and "Oh, my baby! I always wanted a baby." You hate having your picture taken unless I'm taking a picture of you AND your brother. Then you wrap your arms around the baby and smile as if he is your most prized possession. The other day you asked if we could have "MORE babies!" Ummm, no.

How can I sum this up? You're different and unexpected and crazy and that's what keeps our days (and, often nights) full and, when you are older and no longer living at home, we will entertain ourselves with endless stories of how we endured the wonderful adventures of Simon Lucas Kagle.

We love you madly and deeply.

Happy Birthday!

Mama (and Daddy)

Simon Turns Three
Simon Turns Two
Simon Turns One
Simon's Birth Day

Posted by kagledom at 12:00 AM | Permalink

[Note: We are in the new house but our Internet connection and phone lines are not working. If you need to reach us, please use cell numbers.]

After two nights in Houston, one night in Orlando, and two nights on the ship, Simon realized that sleeping in new locations is not that bad. In fact, sleeping between Mama and Daddy is pretty darn comfortable. So after two stories and lights out he closed his eyes and passed out like a normal human being -- HOOOOOOOORAAAAAYYYYY!

After the ship kindly forced us to depart, we took the Magical Express Bus back to Orlando and checked into the beautiful Africa-inspired Animal Kingdom Lodge. A long nap later, we had a lovely meal (Simon had award winning mac and cheese - seriously) and the three of us spent an hour or so in the pool.

The next morning we prepared ourselves for the first of two days at the Magic Kingdom (aka Disney Land Orlando). We started everything off right with a character breakfast; Simon met Piglet, Eeyore, and Tigger. Next we caught the welcome show on the Castle steps followed by a "beat the heat" moment in Mickey's Philharmagic (a 3-D movie). One of our fondest memories of the trip will always be seeing Simon duck and grab at the items he thought were coming at him.

Next we got in the "10 minute" (actual time: 25 minute) line for Dumbo. Simon wanted to go "up up up!" and refused to even let the car adjust to lower than the highest setting. When the ride was over, 3 minutes later, he broke into tears that lasted for quite some time. Hava felt like crying as well. While waiting in line we were in direct sunlight in 90 degree heat, 90% humidity, and the ride was only THREE MINUTES!!! We learned a valuable lesson - only ride rides that are fastpass-able (there aren't that many for 3 year olds) or have visibly short lines. Lesson learned, we eventually made it to Pirates of the Caribbean, Buzz Lightyear Spin, the train, the tram, the Tiki Room, Winnie the Pooh, the Amazon Boat Tour, and several others. We also spent a good amount of time both days in Toon Town (home to Mickey and Minnie Mouse).

Simon loved the rides (as expected). He would have loved to have been flown through the air and/or spun all day long. Each day we rode the bus back to the hotel at nap time to restore Simon to his non-cranky splendor. Post nap, we made the trip back to the park for dinner and some more fun. The first evening we decided to keep Simon up for the 9 pm electrical parade and the 10 pm fireworks over the Princess Castle. Simon was exhausted but it was worth it - he has been talking about the fireworks ever since (initially he was a little concerned about the well being of the Princesses inside the castle). After the second long hot day, about the time Simon was starting to melt, we took him to buy a Disney memento. Hava wanted him to have a Mickey shirt. Simon, the boy who hates anything on his head or neck, fell madly in love with Minnie Mouse ears. It is impossible to describe just how happy he was wearing those ears. You'll have to look at the photos.

On Sunday morning we packed up and took yet another Magical Express Bus to the Orlando airport. We arrived in New England in time for a late lunch and drove on to the Cape with Grandmother, Feefadder, and Grandma Whee. Simon had missed the Feefadders since their departure from San Francisco in early May, so he was very happy to be in their presence. Once on the Cape, we started the relaxing portion of the vacation right with an immediate trip to the bay where Grandmother and Feefadder played in the water with an over tired but clearly thrilled to be alive Simon. And after swimming and dinner the boy was treated to his fifth third birthday celebration.

The rest of the week was filled with trips to the ocean, the bay, and a pond, a lot of bonding time for Simon and his Grandparents, ball games, bubbles, kite flying, ice cream cones, watching potters spin pots, walks, fried seafood, and some really good sleep. It was everything we have come to expect from our yearly Cape excursions (including some much needed parent/child separation time).

By late in the week Simon was starting to show some signs of wear and it was clear he needed to be back home with his little friends. He ran into another 3-year-old at the airport and was overjoyed to have a buddy to talk with. He was overheard asking her: "Do you remember Tokyo?" Our JetBlue flight direct into San Jose was over 6 hours long and landed at 8 pm Pacific (11 pm to us). Simon was perfect and awake the entire flight (although half way through he said "I'm all done with the airplane, Mama.") Our friend, Lennie, picked us up from the airport. Simon fell asleep in her car and stayed asleep as we moved him into our car, waited in our driveway for Matthew to unload the car and uncover the beds, and as we transferred him into bed. He woke up the next morning in our new house. We had no idea what his reaction would be to being in yet another new place but we would never have predicted how happy he has been since seeing his room, the new bathrooms, the kitchen, and everything in between. He is in love with the place and can't stop talking to imaginary Mickey and Minnie and Donald Duck and Laa Laa and Tinky Winky about the different features. He slept in his room alone last night, slept in this morning, and woke up uncharacteristically cheerful.

The place looks beautiful. There are still some things yet to be ordered and installed but it is completely livable. At the last minute we had to leave the entire design of the tile in both bathrooms up to the contractors and it looks much better than our original plan. We were expecting far less. Yesterday it seemed like we should invite someone over to see our cool new house and then we realized we should probably find the boxes with clothes and food and toilet paper before having guests...

Photos from the Cape will be uploaded to Flickr as soon as an Internet connection is established in the Kagle abode.

Posted by kagledom at 05:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Two days before our trip all of our belongings were packed up and moved to the new house. We kept back a few necessities: a crib mattress for Simon, an airbed for us (which turned out to be somewhat useless as it had a slow leak), bedding, plasticware, etc. Those two nights we picked an empty room and made beds on the floor. Simon was excited about the change in his surroundings and getting him to sleep was, as expected, a challenge. He didn't sleep much at night and napped hardly at all those two days. We woke him early for our trip to the airport, stuffed everything in our car, and said goodbye to the apartment we've called home for the past six months.

Despite sleep deprivation, Simon was terrific at the airport. He was that special kind of terrific that makes old ladies stop and take notice. And he was beyond thrilled to be on an airplane. He requested a "blue" plane and, luckily, Southwest didn't disappoint. He sat in the front row for the first leg of the trip and became the number one fan of the flight attendants once we landed in Los Angeles as he clapped and cheered and yelled "DO IT AGAIN!"

The leg from LA to Houston an hour later was just as nice but, by the end, Simon was beginning to show signs of wear. He passed out moments after we hit the ground but slept only until we reached baggage claim.

So by the time we reached Houston we were down three days of naps and he was missing a few hours of sleep each night for two nights.

He was very excited to see Aunt Jackie, Uncle Tom, Oma, Cousin Rachel, and Cody (the dog). His joy at being with them overshadowed the sleep deprived funk, which otherwise would have taken our dear little boy by storm. He played piano, he chased the dog, he watched the rain, he went to the park, he had a second third birthday celebration, but mostly he stayed in air conditioned locations spending time with his family. He napped for an hour one day and had VERY little sleep at night (we spent two hours each night trying to get him to pass out).

By the time we left Houston, Simon had napped for about 2.5 hours over four days (normally he naps 2.5 hours each day) and he was out about 12-14 hours of nighttime sleep.

Our trip from Houston to Orlando was less thrilling. Simon was so tired at the airport (with only his boring parents to entertain him) that he finally collapsed emotionally and mentally, which manifested itself in loss of physical control. He couldn't sit up; he couldn't stand up; he couldn't walk; he couldn't be still. We took turns trying to hold him while he swatted us, kicked, head-butted and laughed. The plane was delayed 45 minutes due to a downpour and thunderstorms. Simon didn't sleep on the flight.

We arrived in Orlando and Disney took over everything by getting us on a bus to our hotel and taking care of picking up our bags at baggage claim. We checked in, got Simon some food, and waited for our luggage to arrive. We landed at 6:30 pm. Our bags didn't arrive in our room until 11:30 pm. We were so thankful for their arrival; we could finally put Simon to sleep. We opened the luggage to get out the pajamas and toothbrushes to find a very soggy mess. Apparently our two largest bags were on the top of the luggage cart which sat out in the Houston downpour for 45 minutes.

We got Simon to sleep around midnight. He was down another nap and only slept for six hours.

There was some time to play in the pools and fountains of the resort between breakfast and our the departure of our hour long bus trip to the Disney Wonder ship. Simon ran and jumped and splashed and had a marvelous time. He was even cheerful on the bus. It wasn't until we reached the cruise ship that things began to fall apart. Simon missed another nap. He was hot. He was tired. He was bored. He switched from interested and content to demonically possessed depending on the sway of the ship, the wind, and the number of large fish swimming in a two mile radius. And then? AND THEN?? And then there was a three hour dinner.

In summary, the rest of the cruise pretty much went the way of the first night. We had our friends Brian, Rhonda, and their daughter Leah to act as entertainment during meals but Simon was really too far gone by the time we arrived for any intervention (no matter how amusing) to help. Not that the WONDERFUL Disney staff didn't try. They came up with balloon animals, magic tricks, crayons, games, dances, a birthday cake and song... He finally cracked a smile and gave them a much deserved laugh on the very last day.

Simon did have a lot of fun. He saw his first movie (Meet the Robinsons) in the full size movie theater on board. The two days he did nap we let him stay up late to see two Broadway-esque Disney shows that had him literally standing in the isles, clapping, and dancing and calling out "SING EVERYBODY!" He fell head over heels in love with Mickey and then Minnie. He met the Princesses and was so shy once he got near them he couldn't even look in their direction (even though he was thrilled later for having even come close). We spent a great day at the Disney Island, Castaway Cay, playing in the warm water, the sand, and riding bikes together. He swam in the Mickey Pool onboard and even went down the big water slide alone, he played with Leah who is JUST SO COOL and, even though she is seven, had no qualms about entertaining a younger man (or persuading him to nap or trying to get him to use the toilet).

Would we do it over? Definitely. If we knew then what we know now would we wait until Simon was potty trained so he could play in the super cool kid area with the other kids his age without us while we napped/participated in other activities/went offshore? YOUBETCHA! And we might have even waited until he was old enough to care that we were on a ship sailing the high seas.

Seriously, everything about the Disney cruise was great. The ship was beautiful, being on the water was incredible, and the service was above and beyond. We will do it again. We have a tentative date for 2011 or 2012.

Be sure to check out the photos on Flickr.

Posted by kagledom at 02:07 PM | Permalink

Dear Simon,

Your third birthday and what a year it has been. Last year we were living in Chicago playing in our enormous four story townhouse, and on our fun deck overlooking the Sears Tower, the Hancock Building, with the L squealing past at a distance. We didn't have a birthday party because, besides your good friend Amelie (who had just had a baby sister), there were no other kids to invite.

We had a great time exploring Chicago. So many things to do! Such beauty in every building! Free entertainment every weekend day in the park right across the street! The Museum of Science and Industry! Millennium Park! Daddy and I have fond memories. We're sad that yours probably won't last but, one day, we'll take you there and show you everything you liked best.

Right after your second birthday you started preschool at Lakeshore Prep in downtown Chicago. It was a very cute urban school with a lot of fun activities. The first few weeks you found it difficult to be without Daddy for the few hours at a time and it was really hard on Daddy to leave you. You loved your first teacher (she was very cute) and you excelled at music and art. When fall came around you were given new instructors who were, frankly, a little frazzled by your enthusiasm for everything. In circle time, while the other "good" children sat in a circle to sing, you danced around the room or in the center of the circle. You refused to stand in line and thought it HYSTERICAL to zoom off down a hall leaving one teacher to watch the rest of the class while the other tried to catch you. You became frustrated by your classmates (none of whom you particularly liked) and started to push them out of your way. You worried the teachers. The teachers worried us. By the late fall you tolerated school only because it had a man who sang songs in Spanish and played the guitar. But, wow, how fast you picked up numbers and letters when the guitar guy sang!

So by fall Mama's work was stressful, Daddy's work was stressful, and your school life was stressful. It snowed in the middle of September. When Mama came home from work we would ask you if you wanted to go out and you'd say "No, it's too dark." You and Mama don't tolerate extreme cold very well - especially if there isn't even any snow.

When a brief window of opportunity opened Mama asked Daddy if we could leave. PLEASE COULD WE LEAVE? Daddy reluctantly agreed to end our new and exciting life in the big city and to pick up our old and comfortable life in the most expensive suburbs in the world.

You flew back to California with Mama in December and it was the first plane trip where you were really excited to be on a PLANE! Ever since that trip you have talked about planes and taking off and wanting to go to the airport. Daddy arrived four days later in the car and you were angry at him for leaving you for such a long time. He was so excited to see you but you didn't want to be near him or let him hold you. You didn't, that is, until he went back out to the car to get something and you had a sudden and intense emotional breakdown. After that experience, Daddy stayed no more than a room away for a few months.

Since we arrived back in Mountain View your time has been spent playing outside and/or with your old buddies. It's really heartwarming to watch you connect with people again on a regular basis. You have lots of friends and you love nothing more than playing with them; you talk about them all the time - especially "Tokyo" and Patrick.

The best thing about the past six months is how you've started to tell us things we don't already know. You tell us about your day, what you like and don't like, what is scary, and all about your favorite things. Speaking of favorite things, your interests haven't actually changed much over the past three years. You like to run and jump and be rambunctious. You love being in water and have taken to showering in the morning and bathing in the evening - just to get in some extra splashing. We didn't swim much in Chicago but now that we are here we take you swimming every Saturday. Recently you want nothing more than to jump off the side of the pool and into Mama's arms over and over for the entire half hour. You also love anything to do with music. You sing a favorite song for a few weeks (enough to wear it out) before moving on to the next. You like stories too but you prefer them to be new - that or have a silly rhyme.

Besides being with friends, playing in water, and music, you love anything mechanical or electrical. You are really interested in how things work, particularly vacuum cleaners, hairdryers, blenders, electric tools, fans, and the back of the toilet. Almost every morning after you wake up you walk into our bathroom and ask for the back of the toilet to be removed so you can see the "bubbles." Daddy says this is normal boy behavior.

We think you know your numbers, letters, and colors but you usually won't humor us with an answer when we ask. You were very contrary most of the past year. The more we wanted you to do something (like use the toilet, go to bed, brush your teeth, try a new food) the more you resisted. Daddy has used this to his advantage. He screams "No kisses! No! No! No kisses!" just before you attack him with kisses all over his face. In the past two months you have relented and shown us just how nice it can be to have a little boy that has tastes and opinions of his own but also understands it is possible to like the same things as his parents.

You've become a little shy of strangers as of late and less willing to run into traffic (which was a big problem only six months ago). You've finally become aware that getting hurt is a real possibly so, where six months ago you would climb the furniture raise your hands up in the air and yell "I'M CLIMBING!", now you at least hold on while you flip over the side. We no longer have to watch you every second of every day while you challenge our baby proofing. We can even leave you alone with small objects and know that you won't swallow them and choke. You've never choked. You've never been electrocuted. You've never swallowed poison. What a relief.

When you don't know we're listening we hear you cautioning your friends to be careful. All that imploring you not to kill yourself over the past three years is getting through.

This past year you've maintained your status of being a really sweet, happy, silly, and remarkably polite kid. We'd like to pat ourselves on the back for just how great you are but, honestly, other than keeping you safe and hiding fish and steamed vegetables in your food, we don't deserve the credit. In a big way, we're not raising you, you're raising yourself. We're just those embarrassing people sitting in the very front row of your cheering section.

Happy Birthday Simon.

With Love,

Mama and Daddy

Posted by kagledom at 12:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

It's nap time and Simon is actually napping. Hava is home and we three Kagles are celebrating five years married (nine years together) by doing absolutely nothing (we're counting Simon in on the five just because we like him). Sometimes, when relaxing hasn't been high on the priority list, doing nothing is the very best course. For example, it led us to take an anniversary picture of ourselves which turned out to be quite fun. Since we're not incredibly talented or outrageously attractive here is the one (out of a dozen takes) we are actually willing to show:

When THAT turned out to be the best we could do, we decided separate photos might work better:

The Old Man

The Ball and Chain

Last night one of Simon's teachers came over to sit while we went to a live taping of our favorite radio program, Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me! A good time was had by all. (If you listen really hard to this week's show, you will hear us laughing nearly non-stop. It's even better in person than it is on the radio.)

Posted by kagledom at 02:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Yesterday there was a lot of rushing around, gathering things together, and filling out forms. We SHOULD have opened the pre-first-day-of-school instructional packet before Sunday night but somehow it got left behind with the multitude of other things on our endless to-do lists. It isn't like us to leave something so important to the last minute but these things happen. In any case, we (mostly Matthew) filled out forms about Simon's behavior and his health and what he likes and how he sleeps. Matthew did an excellent job of filling out the forms. When Hava read them milk nearly sprayed out of her nose. It would have if she had been drinking milk. Since we don't get these forms back, we scanned them in for our future enjoyment.

So this morning we woke up determined not to let Simon know that Hava was up worrying at 3:30 am or that Matthew's stomach was in knots. We were our cheerful-ish selves and Matthew deposited him at school without a glimmer of his fear for the pain and suffering that might befall him - probably the youngest two year old in his class (and most likely the tallest). Clearly we are temporarily insane and we do know this but it is hard not to imagine the worst things about school, multiply them by a thousand, and then multiply that by an even larger sum to account for the emotional loss of near constant parental attention.

Matthew took Simon on the longest short train ride of his life to preschool just after 8 am. He stayed while Simon played for about an hour, until 9:30, slowly being less and less interesting until the breadsticks and apple juice appeared and Daddy in the corner was a distant memory. Three members of Simon's class (the Blue Guppies) cried the entire time Matthew was present which put Simon a little on edge. One two year old was so distraught that he had to be removed. A girl was still crying when Matthew returned at 12:30. Our boy was, of course, braver than we allowed ourselves to hope. Simon really is ready for preschool. Ahhhh...

Posted by kagledom at 07:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Dear Simon,

The first six months of your second year were pretty normal - you wanted to be outside (with Calvin) or somewhere, ANYWHERE besides home. Indoors we chased you around the leather chair in the middle of the living room because that was the only space to run. Around and around. We would stop and hide and pop out and ROAR and you would squeal with delight. This did get old. We worried. Your toys spilled over into every room; even when they were put away. We had gates up to block the dining room to keep you away from Winslow, all the cords from the multimedia appliances, the recycling, and the pieces of food that inevitably were left on the floor after your meals. We gated the doorway to the kitchen so we wouldn't have to lock every cabinet door and we gated the top and the bottom of the stairs. We even had a gate in our bedroom so you wouldn't get to sleeping Winslow or the computers. With all the restrictions on space our home sometimes felt like a prison; we couldn't blame you for wanting to get out and explore.

Once Mama decided to look for new jobs, time became tight. Mama and Daddy tried to be excited about the future but everything seemed so uncertain. Where would we go? What would we do? Truth be told, we really wanted to stay. It was Bay Area real estate and financial advisors that inadvertently helped us make the decision to leave. You see, we couldn't possibly afford a larger home in a fun neighborhood within a good school district. When we were told just how much we would have to pay, we blanched. How could it be that people have cute little homes in Palo Alto? Are there that many lottery winners? Did the tech bubble burst only for a few? WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE DO? Where did we go wrong? Mama became incensed. Daddy became depressed. Motorola made an offer. We decided to leave.

The middle of your year was filled with change. We thought you would be upset (that's what the development books say to expect) but you loved it. You thought having boxes from floor to ceiling was just about the best gift ever and then you woke up one morning to find the fan, usually tucked away high on a shelf, on the floor next to a full size REAL watering can. "ALL RIGHT!" you yelled. We stopped reading child development books around then; you are an aberration; in your wake, all child development formulas seem slightly flawed.

You loved watching Daddy fix up the Mountain View house. From the moment you saw him using a screwdriver to replace some hinges, you were in love. You are a handyman in the making. If only you could convince Mama and Daddy to let you play with the real screwdrivers so you could "fix" the electrical outlets! Besides tools, your loves are music and books and pushing buttons, unlocking locks and talking on the phone. You also enjoy cooking and drawing and swinging and running and jumping and splashing. Daddy started taking you to a French class in Chicago once a week because, for reasons we can't quite comprehend, you are completely enamored with French. You sing various French songs (in tune!) a good percentage of your waking hours.

Your first real Winter was tough not because it snowed a lot (because it didn't) but because you absolutely refused to wear your mittens or your hat so Daddy couldn't take you outside for more than a few minutes at a time for several months in a row. Our new house has much more space to explore but you still want to be outside. In that way, this house is a prison too. Now that warm weather has finally arrived, you spend every possible moment outdoors. At least Mama and Daddy bought a house across from a park; they do get things right occasionally.

While your first year was about moving, getting out on your own, finally being able to go where ever you pleased, your second year of life has been all about trying to figure out how exactly to get what you want. Sometimes this has been about telling Mama and Daddy what you want but mostly you prefer to figure these things out for yourself. In your second year you mastered climbing, jumping, and using objects around you as props to get you where you want to go. You've also experienced moments of great frustration when you discover that you're just not big enough, strong enough, or old enough to do everything.

Although you're getting there very quickly, one thing you haven't quite mastered is English. Over the past year you have started many long conversations with Mama and Daddy - inevitably you paused to ask a question. You repeated the question. You repeated the question again. Know why Mama and Daddy were staring blankly? It was because, up until very very recently, YOU DIDN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. Simonese is an adorable language and we are going to miss it once it is completely gone but everyday use of Simonese has caused much frustration in our lives. A few months ago, in the park, a woman thought you were speaking German. She actually started to talk to you IN GERMAN (and you answered her in Simonese). While we used to get the typical, "how old is he?" question in your first year, the most frequently asked question while out and about in your second year has been "what language is he speaking?" People everywhere marveled at how you would go on and on and on using gestures and sounding exactly like you were discussing the most important news of the day.

It is ironic that words can not express how amazing it is to communicate with you. Now that we finally understand you, we hope, for your sake, to eventually stop revealing just how excited we are every time you come up with a new sentence. Some people say the terrible twos are where the difficulties begin but we feel like we've finally moved from the dark ages into the age of enlightenment. Of course we've enjoyed you from the start but now, in addition to being our boy, you are also our friend.

Often, as you lie in our bed pretending to "seep," we stand there with our arms wrapped around each other and watch you, your eyes closed tightly, head on a pillow, covers pulled up to your chin, long lean body doing its very best to stay still. Inevitably one of us whispers "we did that" and we let the thought linger, enjoying the moment of silence before you jump up to "surprise" us, fully expecting to be tickled and covered with kisses. "Night night, Mama! Night night Daddy! Love you." and then the game starts again.

We did that. We made you. What power we possess. It's amazing no one else thought of it first.

Happy Second Birthday.

Love,

Mama and Daddy

How Old? A Short Simonial Movie Clip (you may have to open it twice before it runs)
The *Final* Boppy Image Installment
One year ago today
Two years ago today

Posted by kagledom at 12:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Matthew and Hava left for the hospital about two hours after the previous update was posted. Hava's contractions were 3 to 4 minutes apart and had been for an hour and a half. The hospital will not admit a laboring woman until her cervix has dilated to 4cm but Hava was experiencing too much pain and decided to risk being sent home. After waiting in the HOT WAITING ROOM with other non laboring people for 45 minutes (while having contractions at 3 minutes apart and less), Hava was given a room and found to be 4cm (hooray!).

After about an hour of labor in the labor room, Hava was still 4cm and in agony every 2 minutes for a minute so she decided to have the epidural. Having the epidural was one of the smartest choices Hava has ever made in her entire life (and she isn't exaggerating). She had a "text book" labor from that point on (according to the doctors) and dilated 1 cm each hour completely pain free (they broke Hava's water after two hours at 4 cm). Matthew and Hava saw Hava's new favorite movie, "Love, Actually" and enjoyed themselves while watching Hava's contractions come and go on the monitor. Hava could feel the pressure of the contractions but absolutely no pain. There were no adverse side effects to the epidural - contractions didn't slow down, and she was, in the end, COMPLETELY able to feel the need to push. Before the epidural, it was too painful to even see Matthew move or speak during contractions.

Anyway, around 1 am Hava started to feel like she needed to, well, make a BM. And as if she hadn't made a BM in around, say 100 years and really really needed to make a BM that entire 100 years but just couldn't. Unfortunately, pushing isn't allowed until 10 cm and between 7 and 10 felt like YEARS (Hava's contractions actually got so close together during this two to three hour period that the doctor became concerned and put an internal monitor in her uterus).

Alas, at around 1:30 am Hava was declared a 10 and she, with the help of her lovely assistant Matthew and the nurse, began the pushing process (one of Hava's legs was completely numb from the epidural and the other wasn't completely useful). The nurse said that pushing usually takes about two hours for a first time mother. Hava couldn't bear the thought of another two hours so she pushed with all of her might.

Simon Lucas Kagle was born approximately 30 minutes after pushing began at 2:08 am. Simon let loose with a loud cry, was placed on Hava's chest and Matthew cut the cord. Simon scored a 9 on his one minute and five minute apgar tests (out of 10 and the doctor said she had never given a 10 to a vaginal birth). An hour or two after giving birth, Hava was moved to the recovery area where she stayed for the rest of that night and the following night.

Simon was with her the entire time and everything was perfect. The beginning!

Posted by kagledom at 08:39 AM | Permalink