Dear Ethan, year 0, month 3

Posted on Sat 03/18/06 in Fatherhood

Dear Ethan,

Today marks the end of your third month of life. Your greatest accomplishment thus far is your finding some way to drastically accelerate the fourth dimension: time.

If I had to guess your future occupation, I’d say that you’ll be a toy maker. You discover new toys on your own every day. This month you found your tongue. You stick it out, and you go cross-eyed trying to see what that slimy thing actually looks like. When daddy dribbles his fingers across your lips, you slip you tongue out to feel it. This is HIGHLY amusing to you and produces a fit of laughter. You’re also beginning to uncover the secret pleasures of… the arm. You are a tinkerer. You’ve seen this arm attached to you and you are determined to impress brain control upon it. As you lie under your jungle gym, you concentrate on bringing that arm to make the little hanging ladybug move. After a few minutes, you do it. Again, you burst into a fit of laughter, fart a couple of times, and begin to focus on the next challenge.

When I told people that I dropped you and Mommy off at the airport to go visit your best friends in Tampa, I received mystified looks. “Wait! Ethan flew to Tampa!?!?” Indeed, you have contributed to Mommy’s Southwest Airlines trip point balance. While it was surely difficult to endure riding the conveyer belt while the TSA personnel checked you for explosive material, you toughed it out.

You are STILL an eating machine, sucking down more milk than an Oreo cookie commercial. Every night, you enjoy at least one nightime snack (just like Mommy). But, the other night, you slept from 8:30p to 5:00a, a feat which has kept our hopes alive for a full night’s sleep.

It has given Mom and I great pleasure to take you to the same park I grew up at… Fire Engine Park. When I was just a bit older than you, I celebrated many birthdays there, and I rode my bike past it, daily, on my way to school. You love the outdoors; the colors; the interesting people; and the wind makes you coo and gurgle.

You can stand up completely, with only a helping hand for balance. I imagine that soon you will be sprinting across the tile floor and smashing your head into random household applicances. I will be making many trips to Home Depot to find child-proof devices to separate you from Cutco knives and 120V electrical outlets. I am just praying that some remarkable technology startup company will find the means to make all electronic devices… wireless. I have NO idea what I am going to do with my computer equipment which sits, temptingly, in our living room. I guess we’ll cross that bridge… soon.

You are already a music fanatic. You’re enjoying Roger Whittaker, who my siblings and I enjoyed very much as children. You love Singing With Susan, your Jewish Godmother’s homemade CD series. You also jam to: NOFX, They Might Be Giants, The Misfits, Thunderbirds Are Now!, Fiona Apple, Mr. Bungle, System of a Down, Rancid, and Pantera.

You watch your dog, Willie, walk by and sniff you. You LOVE Baby Einstein (which IS crack for babies), rattles, and Daddy’s singing about all sorts of nonsense.

You’ve been making a point to visit your Great Grandfather, who has been sick for many weeks. He loves to watch you grow and is always amazed at the new faces you make. Grammer loves to talk to you constantly and hold you. I lived with them for the first year of my life, and I am glad you are able to spend time with them.

You are happy and healthy and loved by ALL… especially your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, your parents’ friends, random old women at the grocery… who insist that the current SIDS theories are ridiculous and that seventy-five years ago they used to put their kids on their stomachs to sleep. EVERYONE adores you. So, keep it up.