It's a puzzlement

Jackson loves doing puzzles. Here's proof!

Happy Harrison

Harrison is a smile machine -- so pleasant, happy and cheerful (most of the time.) All you have to do is make eye contact with him and his face lights up. Very exciting!

The Sunshine Song

Jacks decided to regale us with his version of "The Sunshine Song" during our drive to the gym the other day.

Enjoy!

Smiles & Coos

Harrison is becoming a more expressive, smiley, happy boy!

Jackson Dug It!

For his 2nd birthday, Jackson hosted a construction theme party. It was a job well done! His friends Oliver, Quinn, Elliott, Noah, Brooke and Jack attended as well as Mimi, Aunt Susie, Aunt Mallory and Emma.

There was a water park, lots of things to climb and ride on and more food than we could eat.

What a happy boy!

Scenes from a birthday weekend

Jackson turned 2 on Sunday and we celebrated with a long weekend in Sarasota.

We partied at Aunt Susie's and Jacks swam, jumped on a trampoline and checked out a game of cornhole. He enjoyed a delicious cupcake, opened more presents than he could play with and loved being the center of attention.

He also enjoyed sharing a birthday with his Mimi. Mimi also memorialized the moment by arranging for a photo session. Jacks loved all of it -- except posing with his little brother, Harrison.

He played with his grandparents, Aunt Mallory and got quite accustomed to sleeping in a true big boy bed with only a guardrail. He's even becoming more aware of his potty training.

It was also Harrison's first road trip and visit with his extended family. Meredith's family welcomed him with open and comfortable arms. 

To Jackson on his 2nd Birthday

To my son Jackson on his 2^nd birthday:

            If I had to describe you in one word it would be “personable.”

            That word encapsulates what I see in you – even at a mere 24 months. You’re charming, inquisitive, funny, playful, mischievous and skilled at making people smile.

            Personable describes the little boy who asks the exterminator to stay at our house and “play trains.”

            Personable describes the little boy who wants to be read to constantly, plays “I see something” with flair and always wants us to “do a Thomas puzzle” with you.   

            Personable describes the little boy who sings his favorite songs – “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” “Farmer in the Dell” and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” over and over, making everyone around you want to join in.

            Personable describes the little boy who playfully demands we do “again” whatever you find funny.

            Personable describes the little boy who gyrates and shakes when dancing for Mommy and I because you know it cracks us up.

            Personable describes how you tell people with a grin, “I’m Jackson” when asked your name.

            My dear boy, you’ve got spunk. You’ve got a spark. You’ve got a way about you.

            And your mother and I could not be happier.

            Over the past year, you’ve survived our move and grown comfortable in our rental home in Plantation. There’s a playroom for your Thomas train table, several parks nearby to ride bikes to and lots of space to ride your rocket ship and motorized Jeep.

            There’s even room for your big boy racecar bed, which you lounge in for naps and nighttime.

            You’ve made new friends – like Sophia and Jack. You’ve taken new classes like Soccer Tots, Music Together and Ooey Gooey Messy Fun.

Fun? You had LOTS of fun.

            I could fill an entire photo album of you covered in paint from Ooey Gooey. No child ever painted their tummy with such aplomb!

            Each day your mother and I strive to encourage your “fun.” Our goal is to make you laugh, learn and grow into the clever, happy boy we know you’ll be.

            We visit parks, ride on rides, check out animals, play make believe and race.

            We make up songs, dance till we drop, swing you high up over our heads and encourage you to climb ladders at the park.

            This is our job as parents. This is your job as a child.

            You’ve welcomed a new brother, Harrison, into our home. There were a few moments of discomfort at first. When we brought Harrison home from the hospital you said, “Baby, all gone.”

            But within days you held Harrison on your lap, pretended to kiss him and even showed him your trains. You will be best buddies in no time.

            This year you traveled twice on an airplane to Baltimore and spent Christmas with Daddy’s family.

            You spent lots of time with Mommy’s family – visiting Sarasota, riding on Thomas the Train and playing.

            You’ve taken on new challenges – like soccer and swimming. In the pool, you live up to our Codd name.

            The biggest change that we’ve noticed this year has been your language development. Even Doctor Samuels told Mommy and me that we shouldn’t expect our second child to speak as much or as well as you are.

            Your vocabulary is off the charts and there are times where we have an actual conversation. I’m not sure if it’s all the reading we’ve done with you or the amount that Mommy and I speak to you but you clearly have an aptitude for language.

            You repeat things you’ve heard once – even if it’s not a very nice word that Daddy “accidentally” said.

            Your brain seems to soak up words and phrases, bathing them in your head and spitting them out randomly, leaving Mommy and me in amazement at something you’re remembered.

            May you always be blessed with that gift and may you use to your successful advantage.

            There is one word in your vocabulary that we’d like to omit – the word “no.”

            There are moments of frustration like when you rip your bib off at meals declaring yourself done before you’ve barely eaten. Like when you rock back forth in your seat just inches away from catapulting yourself head first onto the floor. Like when you run away from us in a busy parking lot.

            Thankfully, those moments are few. And we’re working on changing them.

            These things take time.

            As I reflect on the letter I wrote to you last year , I realize it was full of gushing sentimentality. I suppose that’s what a new father does as he recollects the first year of his first child’s life. You changed me in innumerable ways last year that I never could have predicted.

            This year, I am as deeply changed but in different ways.

            I see this glimmer of a personality brimming to the surface – a boy who loves life, laughs often and is occasionally nervous about new experiences but quickly engages himself and lets loose.

            I see a boy who will run, sweat and accomplish goals. A boy who will stick with a task. A boy who wants to learn. A boy who repeats to himself something that Daddy must have told you – “Try, Jackson. Try.”

            I see a boy who will challenge your mother and I to keep up with you physically and mentally. A boy who will revel in our undivided attention and acquire all the knowledge we are able to impart to you.

            I feel a responsibility to guide your growth and encourage your curiosity as you become aware of and inspired by the world around you.

            I feel a kinship with you that extends beyond father and son. I see us growing as pals, as our lives and interests intertwine.

            I see that you will learn as much from me in the years ahead as I will from you.

            In two years you’ve become the brightest shining light in our universe. Mommy and I look at you and smile, Jackson. Your joy is our joy and our greatest hope is that the spark you carry, the personality you possess will grow in size and bring you happiness.

Love,
Daddy