A Time To Believe
Dear M&M,
Good night. It has been a long time since I have written you a letter. A lot has changed since our last one, but the main thing is life has gotten in the way. As it turns out, being your Dad leaves little time to stop and think about being your Dad. Recently though, I have been re-inspired. I realized that saying life is too much is an excuse, and if I am not willing to write these letters I enjoy, then who knows what else I will push aside under that excuse. And the source of my re-inspiration to write, the same source of my bad sleep habits and overeating at every meal, is you two.
Marshall is 4, and Mags is nearly 3. You are both learning and doing new things each and every day. It is amazing to watch, and it is made even more amazing by the way you believe and take everything in. I am a hopeless believer in several sports teams, which unfortunately have a history that makes it very difficult. However, year after year, I wait for the Fighting Illini to break through (I really do think this is the year so we will go to some games). That type of belief is expensive, and leaves me prone to let downs/melt downs. You two have a similar belief, except you don't have the letdown part. Each day, your faces grow into those huge smiles, and you decide to believe in something else.
Sometimes it is something simple, like you honestly think broccoli will give you big muscles (I don't think there is much science behind that). Other times, it is something kind of in the middle, like you actually believing all of the McDonalds in the world are closed so there is no reason to cry for Chicken Nuggets. Not to settle to low, your beliefs have grown into believing in magic. Last week, your Mom and I convinced you that you could make marshmallows appear out of thin air thanks to a red solo cups. (Inspired by Magic for Humans the Netflix show, be sure and go back and watch that later in life, seriously). You later believed that you could make every chair in Busch Stadium go up and down just by wiggling your fingers! (Sorry, can't reveal how we did that one). Your excitement was so contagious that other kids were in on it, and even some parents. Best of all, you met the real Fredbird, the Cardinals lovable mascot. You don't know that there was a person inside, or that he WAS making fart sounds with his mouth, so it wasn't actually me.
Also, your Dad is kind of an asshole who exploits your willingness to believe. Sorry about that, but one day you will understand. If the fear of getting left at home gets you to pick up your toys, then I will say what I have to. If you believe that the shoes that are on sale are the ones that make you run the fastest, then we all win. Your belief that the sun is down, so we must sleep, is a true lifesaver. I don't think it's hurting anyone for you to believe your Dad has super strength. One day you will figure out that our kisses bring exactly 0 medical value to your injuries, and hopefully we will have a band-aid heals all phase for as long as we can.
While I am continually inspired by you guys, this two way street means that one of my most important jobs is to make sure you believe in stuff. While you are so innocent/gullible, you need to think the world is a crazy place where everything is a new adventure and magic is real. Trust me, the day you find out Wrestling is staged, will be a crappy one. But on the flip side, getting to watch with you guys has brought that back too. Your shocked faces and belly-laughs can make anything better, and it is your blind faith in everything you see that makes it all possible. There will come a time when you have to start being a little more logical, but don't rush it.
Keep those eyes and hearts open, enjoy mascots, Christmas and Easter holidays, loosing your baby teeth, thinking you have super powers, can do a perfect dinosaur call, and that magic is real. Life will be great, and it will change, but you can go ahead and believe now, it will keep getting better.
Believe me.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Dad
Good night. It has been a long time since I have written you a letter. A lot has changed since our last one, but the main thing is life has gotten in the way. As it turns out, being your Dad leaves little time to stop and think about being your Dad. Recently though, I have been re-inspired. I realized that saying life is too much is an excuse, and if I am not willing to write these letters I enjoy, then who knows what else I will push aside under that excuse. And the source of my re-inspiration to write, the same source of my bad sleep habits and overeating at every meal, is you two.
Sometimes it is something simple, like you honestly think broccoli will give you big muscles (I don't think there is much science behind that). Other times, it is something kind of in the middle, like you actually believing all of the McDonalds in the world are closed so there is no reason to cry for Chicken Nuggets. Not to settle to low, your beliefs have grown into believing in magic. Last week, your Mom and I convinced you that you could make marshmallows appear out of thin air thanks to a red solo cups. (Inspired by Magic for Humans the Netflix show, be sure and go back and watch that later in life, seriously). You later believed that you could make every chair in Busch Stadium go up and down just by wiggling your fingers! (Sorry, can't reveal how we did that one). Your excitement was so contagious that other kids were in on it, and even some parents. Best of all, you met the real Fredbird, the Cardinals lovable mascot. You don't know that there was a person inside, or that he WAS making fart sounds with his mouth, so it wasn't actually me.
Also, your Dad is kind of an asshole who exploits your willingness to believe. Sorry about that, but one day you will understand. If the fear of getting left at home gets you to pick up your toys, then I will say what I have to. If you believe that the shoes that are on sale are the ones that make you run the fastest, then we all win. Your belief that the sun is down, so we must sleep, is a true lifesaver. I don't think it's hurting anyone for you to believe your Dad has super strength. One day you will figure out that our kisses bring exactly 0 medical value to your injuries, and hopefully we will have a band-aid heals all phase for as long as we can.
While I am continually inspired by you guys, this two way street means that one of my most important jobs is to make sure you believe in stuff. While you are so innocent/gullible, you need to think the world is a crazy place where everything is a new adventure and magic is real. Trust me, the day you find out Wrestling is staged, will be a crappy one. But on the flip side, getting to watch with you guys has brought that back too. Your shocked faces and belly-laughs can make anything better, and it is your blind faith in everything you see that makes it all possible. There will come a time when you have to start being a little more logical, but don't rush it.
Keep those eyes and hearts open, enjoy mascots, Christmas and Easter holidays, loosing your baby teeth, thinking you have super powers, can do a perfect dinosaur call, and that magic is real. Life will be great, and it will change, but you can go ahead and believe now, it will keep getting better.
Believe me.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Dad
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