A Little Mischief

Dear Quinn,
One day on the bus to work I was sitting in front of a little boy and his mother. I used to avoid little kids on public transit, but these days I don't mind so much. I recognize how nice it is when people smile at you to provide a friendly distraction that keeps you momentarily entertained, so I try to do the same. Also, it gives me a chance to observe other parents in action.

The little boy was looking out the window and then he turned to his Mommy and asked, "Mommy, what does 'melted' mean?"

Quinn, it isn't very polite to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, but I wanted to hear how she would explain this one. I distinctly recalled a time I overheard a kid reading the street signs aloud and then asking his mother, "Mommy, what is a Walnut? Is it a kind of nut?" And hearing her say, "No, it's the name of a street."

The mom thought about the little boy's question for what seemed like a long time, but then she gave such a thoughtful answer. "Well, remember when we talked about the states of matter, like solid, liquid and gas? (She didn't go into the plasma thing) 'Melted' is a word that means something going from solid to liquid, like an ice cube turning into a puddle."

The little boy got it right away, and I could hear the excitement in his voice when he said, "Oh yeah! Like the cheese in a grilled cheese sandwich is 'melted!'"

Not only was this adorable, but it really got me thinking about how our jobs as parents is to also be your teachers. Sometimes this seems like an overwhelming proposition. We don't have all the answers, but we are anticipating a lot of questions. You already ask the simplest ones in your own way. "Cookie? peese!" or putting your arms and eyebrows up and saying "uh-oh?" meaning, "I dropped something, where did it go?" They are only going to get more complicated.

I'm slogging through two of the latest bestsellers about parenting toddlers at the moment (Bringing Up Bebe and Happiest Toddler on the Block, but these don't have the answers either. I'm realizing more and more that I need to look to the moms around me. I'm lucky to have a lot of great examples in my life, and I know you will too. Sometimes I feel guilty for dropping you off at your grandparents' so that Daddy and I can go house-hunting or go out to dinner, but then I remember that any time you spend with people who love you is a good thing (and they love you so, so much.) When I get overwhelmed with the enormity of the task of raising you, I remind myself that it takes a village and that you have an awesome one.

Tonight when I picked you up from school you were covered in blue paint. Your teacher told me that you were in the book section by yourself pointing to colors and saying them out loud. She was amazed, just like we are amazed everyday by how smart you are.

Keeping going, Quinn! Learn everything you can from all the people you encounter, but pay special attention to your Mom-Mom and Pop-Daddy, Grammy and Pop-Pop, your aunts and uncles, our extended families and trusted friends, and your Daddy and me. Take your guidance from the people who love you the most, because we will always have your best interest at heart.

We are so proud of you and we love you so much!