Easter Weekend 2026

Jack the Big Boy

My walks and runs post on a kind of social media exercise site called “Strava.” I often post photos with my walks because I know my dad, Uncle Dave, or Charlie (the three people who can see my Strava workouts) might enjoy them. A few days ago, Uncle Dave saw a photo and commented that he was surprised by Jack toddling along a trail, because he still sees him as a baby. In many ways, Jack is still a baby. He loves to be snuggled. He loves to be held like a baby when he drinks his sippy cup of warm milk in the morning and before sleep. He doesn’t have many words, and will cry with frustration when he is not understood. The other day, he had a fingernail that was peeling. He showed me, and I told him I would trim it in a minute. He was impatient, and went into the bathroom himself, opening the drawer that holds the nail clippers, found them and brought them to me to take care of his nail for him. He loves to take out the trash, and can say, “trash.” He seems to hear the word trash from anywhere in the house and will come running. He likes to carry the bag (while I carry him) and throw it in, or throw each little piece of recycling in our recycling bin from our small bin inside. He puts his cup in the sink when he is done drinking his milk, standing on his fat little toes, reaching with the tips of his fingers, and pushing his sippy cup until it’s in the sink basin. He is good at putting things away. And if something is missing, it may be because Jack “put it away” for us, just not exactly where it belongs. Like a puppy, if he hears the word “outside,” he runs to the front door, struggles to open the screen door if it’s unlocked, and reaches outside to find his shoes. And if River and Eleanor take their shoes off inside the door instead of outside, he will be sure to put them back out for us, one shoe at a time. His ability to open the door was cute until last week when I went to the basement to put in laundry. Jack likes to come with me, but our laundry is outside and down a bulkhead, and it’s not always easy to carry the laundry and carry Jack. So I went without him. After putting the laundry in, I came back up the stairs, closed the bulkhead, walked around the corner of the house, and what did I find? Jack! He had quietly opened the door, squeezed his way through, and was working his way down the porch barefoot, all without the notice of Bud, who was cooking in the kitchen a few feet from the door.

Jack has very few words, but is good at communicating. If you aren’t listening to him, he will swing his head around so it’s directly in front of yours and make meaningful eye contact until he has your full attention. Then he will say what he wants. If you have something he wants, he will point at himself and say, “Jack!” For example, the other night, he gave River a kiss goodnight, but not Eleanor. I was carrying him to his bed when he swung his head in front of mine, looked meaningfully in my eyes and said, “Lala, mwa!” So we walked back out to Eleanor, he gave her a “mwa” on the head, and went happily to sleep, snuggling his teddy. Speaking of affection, Jack is the most affectionate toddler. He will take hold of your face with both hands and pull you in for a big sloppy kiss several times a day. He gives good hugs, chubby arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. He will pause his playing to come running by and give you several kisses on the leg, saying “hi” in his sweet little voice, before running back off. Of course, you have to be wary, because he also bites. 

Yesterday, after posting some photos on our family blog, I was reading something I had written in September of 2024. Jack was mere weeks old, and I was writing while nursing him, and while River and Eleanor ran circles around our kitchen table. I was writing about how one day in the future, Jack too would be running circles around the table with his two older siblings. Jack is no longer a baby, even though we call him a baby. He is also not a big kid like his siblings, even though he likes to think he is. But last night while I tried in vain to calm all three down so I could brush their teeth and do all the other bedtime routine steps, all three were running circles around the table, River the fastest, followed by Eleanor, and then Jack, slower, falling over a couple times, but holding his own, laughing, acting not at all like a baby, but like the big kid he will be when I look back and read this blog entry two years from today.