Dear Jack: Dressing Up for Wacky Day, With My Face as the Theme!

10 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

You had mentioned earlier this week that “Wacky Wednesday” was coming up at school. My closet happens to serve as a prop station for such an event!

For example, you considered wearing my Afro wig, but decided it would be too hot and itchy.

Yesterday as I was loading you up in the Jeep, I got a good look at your final costume:

A t-shirt that a friend made for me back in college, featuring a sketch of my face; with my name in Thai below.

And the socks were the ones with my face on them; a gift from Aunt Dana and Uncle Andrew from a few Christmases ago.

Needless to say, you were definitely wacky enough for Wacky Wednesday!




Dear Jack: What Your Classmates Said About You on Valentine’s Day

10 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

When I try to imagine what you are like at school, I imagine a boy who is not afraid to raise his hand to give the teacher the correct answer or to ask a relevant question.

I imagine a very studious boy who takes rules very seriously.

And I definitely am right about my perception.

However, last week I learned beyond that, how your classmates perceive you.

For Valentine’s Day, your teacher had all of you students write an adjective about each student.

The majority of your classmates chose to the word “funny”!

I knew you were smart, but I didn’t realize you also make your classmates laugh so much!

That’s… funny!




Dear Holly: Wearing Mommy’s Lipstick to See If I Would Notice

3 years, 11 months. (Tomorrow is your 4th birthday!)

Dear Holly,

With me being at home now on furlough from my job until July 1st, you and I spend a lot more time together than we are used to.

Most days are a blur of you playing downstairs with your toys while I get work done, mixed with me doing puzzles with you or teaching you how to spell, or taking you outside to play.

But one day last week, after for playing with your toy makeup set for nearly 30 minutes, you sneaked away, only for a minute.

Then you walked up to me, smiling- but not saying a word.

It took me about 5 seconds to figure it out:

“Holly, look at your lipstick! You look beautiful!”

You are still so proud of yourself for knowing how to apply real lipstick.



Dear Jack: Teaching Your Sister to Sword Fight, Who is Half Your Size and a Third of Your Age

8 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

A few weeks ago, you spent your allowance money on some swords and shields at the Dollar Store.

Well, this past weekend, your 3 year-old sister was as eager as you were to practice sword fighting with you.

So the living room become the arena, where a brave little girl who is half your size and a third of your age showed no fear as she begin sword fighting her brother.

You were wearing a dragon mask; meaning that your sister was fighting the dragon!

To her, this is simply normal. So I guess your allowance money is well spend that week!



Dear Holly: The Purple Popsicle Incident

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Holly,

Last night during dinner, you willingly ate all of the food Mommy had put on your plate, but you also made it clear throughout dinner that you had an agenda.

I heard you keep optimistically muttering, “I get purple Popsicle…”

This is an idea you crafted on your own. No one had even been talking about the frozen grape juice treats in the freezer.

But I suppose you had caught a glimpse of them at some point while Mommy was making dinner.

After finishing all the food on your plate, without saying a word, you just hopped out of your chair, ran over to the freezer, and brought me the Popsicle to unwrap for you.

No words were needed.

You know me. You know how to negotiate.

It was fair deal: Eat all your dinner, then just correctly assume I’ll let you have a Popsicle without any fuss.

You finished about half of your treat before you had your fill. Not to mention, you got a little concerned with you looked down and announced, “Oh no! Boo boo!”

I then explained that it was just part of the Popsicle that had dripped down on your leg.

You had become a purple mess.