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Dear Holly: You’re Really Starting to Look, and Act, Like a Little Girl

1 year, 10 months.

Dear Holly,

There are certain weeks that I especially notice how much more you look like a little girl and less of a baby who happens to be a girl.

This has been on of those particular weeks.

Now your blonde hair is beginning to quickly turn brown. It’s also finally getting a bit longer, and when we put a bow in your hair, it reveals your pretty little face.

You’re now less than 2 months away from turning 2 years-old.

Now, you walk.

You’re beginning to talk.

And this past weekend, you even decided to use the potty instead of use your diaper.

One of the reasons I write these letters to you every week is to help prevent living the cliche about kids growing up too fast.

By examining pictures of you each week and documenting my perception of what you life was like that week, it helps me to put into perspective the little things I might otherwise be overlooking.

Clearly, the theme of this week is this: Holly is really starting to look, and act like, a little girl.

I feel especially close to you in that since October, I have been working from home. So you and I spend a lot of time together. I get to see what you’re like during the day time when you used to be at school all day.

You and I have built a special bond. I understand that part of it is that you’re learning to communicate more anyway.

But still, I’m grateful that in the midst of my branch closing where I used to work, I am able to enjoy spending my hours now taking care of you; while getting work done while you’re asleep.

I know that I will always cherish this phase of our lives, where we got to spend more time together than perhaps the average father and daughter would.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: Nearly 2 Years Later, It’s Hard to Imagine You Having Any Other Name

1 year, 10 months.

Dear Holly,

Like your brother’s name, Jack, you also have one of those classic, easy to spell, easy to recognize, but not overly popular names.

Every generation has its Holly, yet the name never quite pings the radar like the names Jennifer or Amanda from my age group, nor Chloe or Sophia in your age group.

Everyone knows a Holly. It’s a name that’s been around for quite a while, too; since the 1930s.

But I am pretty confident to predict that there will never be another Holly in any of your classes throughout school.

Whereas I pretty much immediately named your brother before Mommy had a chance to offer up anything, that’s how it was with naming you, but the other way around.

Mommy always had the name Holly in mind, if we ever had a girl.

So when we found out you were going to be a girl, there was no thinking to be done. Conveniently for me, Holly was a name that easily worked.

I’m trying to imagine you by any other name.

I could potentially see Jenna.

And even though I really like the name Lola, you don’t look like a Lola.

The funny thing is, I don’t know what a Holly is supposed to look like.

Anyone I’ve met named Holly has looked completely different from the next one.

I am very proud of your name. It’s not a name I would have thought of on my own, but thanks to Mommy, it was the only name ever considered.

Perhaps subconsciously, I’ve always seen your name as the perfect feminine foil to your brother’s classic masculine name.

If I’m going to have a son with a undeniably masculine name like Jack, who’s into Pokemon and Halo, then my daughter needs to have an undeniably feminine name like Holly, who’s into Minnie Mouse and baby dolls.

You were meant to be my Holly.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: Teaching Your Sister How to Use a Cardboard Box

7 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

It had been a particularly difficult night, with your sister waking up several times every couple of hours. I received little rest, as I got up each time to help get her back to sleep. So by the time Mommy left for work around 6:15 AM, I collapsed on the couch in the living room, as I trusted you to take care of your sister while I was out of commission.

When I woke up about an hour later, I was delighted to see that, in your creativity, you took it upon yourself to transform an Amazon shipping box in to a couple of helmets for both you and your sister to wear, in the boat you also constructed from the same box.

I am always so proud to see you take initiative to lead your sister in fun activities, which require no direction from me or Mommy. It’s important that you figure out on your own what to do with your time, without needing me as your entertainment supervisor all the time.

The look on your sister’s face, too, is just priceless. She obviously didn’t quite understand why the two of you had box helmets, but she gladly went along with it; just like the day before when the box actually arrived:

You convinced your sister to walk back and forth from the far end of the living room, to the far end of the kitchen, with both of your heads in the box. For good reason, it reminded me of the kind of horse costume where it takes two people to walk; one in the front and one in the back.

I’m just glad that because of your creativity with a shipping box, I was able to catch a solid hour of sleep, while getting confirmation you’re old enough to take care of your sister with your sleeping dad on the couch.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: Minnie Mouse is Your Best Friend and Elmo is Your Boyfriend

1 year, 9 months.

Dear Holly,

I guess I am learning that every Valentine’s Day at our house is like a “mini” Christmas morning. And speaking of Minnie, she was part of your gifts from Mommy and me:

Pilot Minnie, which includes a pink purse and a pink suitcase.

It is my assumption that little girls your age are equally obsessed with Minnie Mouse and Elmo, with the same mania that teenage girls went crazy over Elvis in the 1950s or The Beatles in the 1960s.

Here is how I perceive things with you right now:

It’s as if Minnie Mouse is your best friend and you want to be just like her. So it’s no surprise to me that yesterday, you clutched her tightly in your hand for both your morning nap and for bed at night. It was like a sleepover.

You just think Minnie Mouse is the coolest girl ever!

And as for Elmo, well… I’m starting to think he’s more than just a friend.

Each time I read you the Little Golden Book, Elmo Loves You, and finish the last page, with a big smile on your face, you lean down and kiss Elmo right on the face: “Mmmmmwhah!”

It’s not like anyone gave you this idea. You just immediately did this the first time, and every time, I have read you the book.

Mommy and I have learned to be careful about even saying Elmo’s name in front you. Because often when we do, you get caught in a trance:

“Elmo? Elmo. Elmo? Elmo! Elmo. Elmo. Elmo. Elmo!…”

At that point, I have to either give in, and take you upstairs and let you watch one of your Elmo DVDs, or I have to find a clever way to distract your train of thought.

So yeah, I convinced: Minnie Mouse is your best friend and Elmo is your boyfriend.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: Let Me Just Savor You at This Age for a Moment, Age 7

7 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

I am taking a moment to deliberately freeze this moment in time; as if to keep you this age long enough for me to process the concept.

It is clear to me that you are in a transition between two different stages of boyhood.

You’re old enough to recognize that “Sesame Street is for babies”, yet you will happily watch it alongside your sister, while giving critical yet intelligent commentary on the plot line.

You’re old enough to finally stop spending all your birthday and Christmas money on stuffed animals, yet you genuinely celebrate receiving a new one as a gift.

You’re old enough to walk across the street to catch the bus every morning to school, yet you still can’t tie your own shoes.

Speaking of shoes, it’s as if you’ve still got one foot in the world of Young Boyhood but now have the other foot in the land of Middle Boyhood.

I feel like I’m even catching a glimpse of your early teen years, when it will no longer be cool to be seen in public with your dad.

I keep that in mind, even now, knowing there are times when I need to give you space; yet the very next day you may be very needy of my attention.

It’s obvious to me that you have gained a sense of your own identity at a much younger age than I did. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I feel you’ve already formed the confidence in yourself that I didn’t gain until junior high.

Perhaps I feel that this is one of those fleeting stages in your life, where if I’m not careful, it will already be gone before I had a chance to acknowledge it.

So I’m acknowledging it.

Before too long, you’ll be openly mocking Elmo and tying your own shoes.

Love,

Daddy