ALWAYS WILL BE

Dear Spike:

I still call you my baby. No doubt I always will. But with each passing day, it's getting harder and harder to see you as anything but a little girl.



Some of the benchmarks are obvious:
• Your obsession with the swings at the park. "Not the baby swing, daddy," you tell me. "The big girl swing!"
• The way you contemplate questions and give meaningful answers. "Who is my girl?" I ask. "Mamma is a girl and me is a girl," you say.



But the benchmarks that are most profound are usually the ones that are most unexpected.
• The way you've taken to saying "yeah," and "nope" and "OooooKay!"
• How you sometimes sing yourself to sleep: "Imalida tea pot short and stout, heresmahanda heresma.... zzzzzzzzzzzzz!"



You're getting bigger, and taller, and heavier. Yet when I hold you in my arms, and especially when your head is resting on my shoulder, you're still my baby.



No doubt you always will be.

Love,
dad

HOW IT IS

Dear Spike:

You're just in the next room over, but I miss you.

I guess that's just how it is when you love someone as much as your mother and I love you.

I can't wait for tomorrow.

Love,
dad

IN PROPER ORDER

Dear Spike:

It's taken some time for me to get used to the addition of school work to my already busy routine, but three weeks into this little adventure, I'm feeling good about the decision.

For the most part, I've been able to keep my academic obligations from taking too much time away from you -- which was my chief concern going in. And although I'm a shameless procrastinator, I've been dutifully working and reading ahead, which I'm hoping will translate into more days like the one we've got scheduled today -- a family hike in the mountains near our home.

Although I fully intend to keep my priorities in proper order, like anything else that steals away a part of the day I know there will be times in which this will interfere with our ability to spend time together. Please forgive me. I'm trying to better myself and, in doing so, put myself in a position to better our family.

But if you need me, I promise I'll be here for you.

It's nice to do well in school. But it's better to do well in life.

Love,
dad

REALLY NOTHING CUTER

Dear Spike:

You've escaped your bedroom four times already tonight. I'm beginning to wonder whether it was such a good idea to take apart your crib.

On the other hand, there's really nothing cuter than seeing you try to sneak into our room in your pajamas.

Love,
dad

THE TERRIBLE TWOS

Dear Spike:

Crayon on the dresser. Tantrums on the floor. Your birthday is still two months away, but I fear we're already well into the "terrible twos."

You're starting to make a lot of decisions for yourself — and you just don't like it when we try to make them for you. And so you get defiant. And angry. And ugly.

I understand. I don't like it when people tell me what to do, either. But you're still a small, small girl and the world is a big, big place, so you still need a bit of help. That's what parents are for.

And although I know it would be easiest to just let you get away with your recent spate of naughtiness and to give into your tantrums — "You want a steak knife? Fine! here's a steak knife!" — we just can't do that. That's not what we're here for.

So we'll keep helping you make good decisions, until you make 'em mostly on your own. We've only got one chance to get you right, kid, and by golly we're gonna do it.

Love,
dad