Dear Lukey 2

Happy birthday, my little man! What a year it has been for my mischievous monkey. You're at the phase right now when you do something new every single day. Lately, that's been most evident in your vocabulary, which has expanded to about 50 or so words, about 30 percent of which I can make out on first listen. You're very polite and aren't stingy with a "Dant Doo" (thank you) and "Saw-wee" (sorry). You call Goofy "Foofy" and waffles "faffles." You say "cookie" perfectly (and often). You do, however, have a few sayings no one can figure out. Occasionally, you'll look me dead in the eye and insist "beaglebeaglebeaglebeaglebeagle." I have no idea what this means but whatever it is, it's urgent. It can't be that important though because I have never once responded to this in a manner that satisfies you and you eventually get fed up and let it go. No clue. You also just recently started saying, "This is-is so," usually when you want to share something with someone. I think you might be going for, "This is for you." Maybe? When your sister was this age, she followed me around for a week screaming, "PANTSUIT!" until I realized she was saying "PETTING ZOO," so who knows? 

With all this new chatting, your personality is emerging like crazy. We affectionately call you Frank the Tank (a nod to the classic movie "Old School" stolen 100 percent from our friends who have a son your exact age that shares many of your...endearing...characteristics). You're basically the really happy stumbling drunk at every frat party. You stump around the house, looking for things to amuse yourself (or, more frequently, to eat) and just want to talk to everyone and hang out and have fun. And much like Frank who's all about streaking, you prefer to be naked. 

This is your future. 

Some things have not changed. You still love your sleep and your food — all food, though pizza (which you called pete-zee for an adorable couple of months) reigns supreme. You can crush half a pie no problem and still ask for more (another one of your new favorite words). The only thing you love more than food and sleep is your sister. Libby is like another limb to you. Where she goes, you go. What she does, you do. If she’s at school, you ask me where she is every eight minutes. If she goes to the bathroom, you ask where she is every eight seconds. And while she occasionally complains when you steal her toys (or, far worse, her spotlight) I suspect the feeling is mutual.

The other top contenders for your heart are animated. You start asking to watch “Muppet Babies” (which you call “Mupp-Bebe”) the second you open your eyes in the morning and continue asking all day long. There are about 30 episodes and I can easily recite the dialogue verbatim and sing every lyric of every song. Libby often unconsciously mouths along with the script while she’s watching with you. When a new episode is released (once every never it seems) it’s cause for legit celebration in the LaBar household. Your second favorite show, if you can call it that, is “Little Baby Bum,” a never-ending loop of nursery rhymes sung by British children voicing characters that include barnyard animals who, terrifyingly, are the exact same size as the humans. Lib was into this for a while and I was just so, so happy when she wasn’t anymore. Alas, I am once again a slave to the Bum. You also got seriously into "Frozen II" for a hot second and like to belt out "Into the Unknown" at full voice complete with your own choreography. You absolutely outshine Elsa. 

You rode a plane and went to Disney World with the family for the first time this year. You loved spending time with everyone and splashing in the pool at the house. However, you spent most of the time at the parks like this:

Not a bad situation, if you ask me.

You did perk up when it was time to meet some of your favorite characters though:

That’s a look of pure love if I’ve ever seen one.

You also went to Ocean City for the first time, where you again really dug all the family time (and quite a few holes in the sand) but generally preferred chillin’ in the baby pool at the giant basecamp we’d set up on the beach.

Miserable. Like always.

You got your first haircut, courtesy of Aunt Kim. I expected tears but you barely flinched throughout the entire thing. The tears did come, however, courtesy of me. 

Why are you 40?

While I wish I could say life is all “Baby Bum” and pizza as we start your third year on this planet, the truth is things are really weird right now. Coronavirus has brought life to a bit of a standstill while we all are in quarantine and practicing social distancing, meaning you don’t get to do a lot of your favorite things like play in the park, go out to eat, or hug your extended family. But there has been a bright spot in the middle of all this uncertainty. Because he’s working from home, you’ve been able to spend more time with Daddy than ever. It’s been amazing to watch your bond grow as you seek him out throughout the day and crawl up into his lap or pat the floor next to you while you’re playing and demand he “SIT!” with you. You’re such a mini version of him, and I can tell you both love your new role as his official sidekick.

It just goes to show that you have a way of bringing joy to every situation. You make us all laugh constantly. You’re super affectionate and lovey. You are just so fun and sweet, and I’m so lucky I get to see that every day. I can’t wait to see what Frank gets up to in the coming year. 

Love,

Mummy

Dear Libby 5

You likely will notice that this note is dated well past your birthday. Please accept my apologies but life these days, as you may or may not be aware of, is BUSY. Between your school and my work and daily errands and daddy’s job and all the time I spend wrangling your brother and making sure you both don’t burn the house down every day, things move fast. So fast that I can hardly believe I’m writing you another one of these letters.

They say for stay-at-home moms, the days are long but the years are short, and Babe, this might have been the shortest one yet. You simply can’t be five. Five means official big kid status. Five means you need me for so much less. Five means full-day kindergarten in the fall. Five means my days as Mama are over and I’m now Mom (for you at least - Luke still calls me Mummy, which I hope is what you both settle on. I’ll even take Mum, which is what I called your grandma. Mom just sounds like it’s begging for an extra syllable to accentuate your inevitable annoyance with me - Mo-om).

It’s been another year of firsts. You had your first haircut shortly after your last birthday when washing your down-the-back curls and subsequently yanking the knots out of them became more than you could tolerate without an intolerable deal of whining. Aunt Kimmy did the honors and by the time she was done, you went from a bouncy haired toddler to a 26-year-old grad school student.

Which way to the quad?

We also took our first trip to Disney as a family this year, which, zero surprise here, you LOVED. You got to spend the week meeting princesses, all of whom you treated like your long lost besties, play with Abby and Kaitlyn and swim every day. You did not, however, love the rides. Daddy decided the best way to ease you into the whole ride situation was to toss you onto a roller coaster right out the gate. Also to no one’s surprise (other than Daddy’s) The Seven Dwarfs Mine Train scared the bejesus out of you and guaranteed you wouldn’t step foot on another ride for the rest of the trip. But that just meant more princess time, some of which was spent transforming you into a royal as well. The fairies at the Bippity Boppity Boutique turned you into a Libby-fied version of Rapunzel and if the experience taught me anything, it’s that you are perfectly at home in the makeup chair and in front of a camera. You turned to me after your photoshoot and simply said, “I loved that.” It showed, Kid.

We also went to Ocean City with the fam again this year, and you were much more into the ocean than you were last time. It wasn’t your favorite thing, but it was no Seven Dwarfs Mine Train. Your favorite part was playing with your cousins (which is pretty much your favorite part of life in general) and hanging at the minicamp the fam sets up on the sand snacking on treats and getting in touch with your inner Ariel.

The rest of the year was spent with all the aforementioned running around and craziness of day-to-day life and honestly, I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You have become such a big help to me in so many ways, most notably when it comes to your little brother. Luke is...spirited (I think that’s the acceptable way to say “prone to demon possession”) and you really help rein him in. You play with him, sing to him, fetch things for him, and generally help keep both him and me sane as we navigate this at-times tricky stage of life. In turn, he ADORES you. The first thing he asks for in the morning is his “Sissy” and if you happen to be at school, he inquires as to your whereabouts roughly every eight minutes until you come home. He wants to do everything you do and follow you everywhere you go. And 80 to 85 percent of the time, you’re really great about appeasing him. The other 20 to 15 percent accounts for all that screaming you’ll likely remember me doing when you look back on these days.

Basically, the only thing that seems to stay the same from year to year is your amazing kindness, boundless empathy and genuine joy for the life you live and for all those around you. You always have had an innate ability to make everyone feel loved and special, and I absolutely marvel when watching your capacity for love grow as you do from year to year. You make my life more fun and more beautiful every single day, and I love you more than you can imagine.

Xoxo,

Mum