“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.”

Lillia: This week I was feeling sad about a few things, and you were such a great comfort to me. I am so amazed by your empathy and your nurturing spirit. It doesn’t show all the time (you are a kid, after all), but you feel deeply the distress of others and you try your best to alleviate it. You have a lot of wisdom, too, for such a young person. So, thank you, Lillia, for supporting me and for giving me the opportunity to see my trials and tribulations in another light.

Zane: On our walk yesterday you met one of our neighbors who gave you two very cool rocks for your “rockry coweckshun” (rock collection): one was a rounded stone that came from the bank of the Connecticut River (it looked like an egg!); the other was a fire agate that came from his friend’s mine in Arizona. People are very drawn to you, probably because you are adorable, but also because you really enjoy engaging with others. You are the very definition of friendly!

“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.”

Lillia: This week at school was riddled with drama — mean girls and mean teachers. You are so hard on yourself when you cry at school, but your big heart is one of your best qualities. I know this situation well, as I was once the little girl who cried a lot at school (now I’m the adult who still cries more than most other adults, but I’m okay with it). The good news is that most people are unlikely to remember much of anything about their elementary years, let alone whether or not you happened to cry often. It will get easier to contain as you get older, but you’ll probably always have very strong feelings, and that’s not a bad thing. The world needs compassion and empathy more than it needs anything else.

Zane: This week you got to come with me to the car dealership to have my car inspected. That was a pretty exciting adventure for someone who loves anything that has a motor. We got to see a tow truck really close-up and you were surprised to learn that they weren’t moving a car, but a very big tool box! When you’re a little bigger, I bet your uncle (who works there) will let you come and look around the shop.

“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.”

Lillia: This week you had a big field trip to our state capital, Concord. You got to meet some politicians and learn about their jobs. You told me that our local representatives only make $200 a year which, you quipped, “Makes their jobs really intense volunteer work!” I think you would make an excellent politician: you are very passionate about your ideas; you love to argue; and you have a very well-developed sense of justice.

Zane: You are getting to be such a big boy! This week I decided that it was finally time to start getting serious about potty training. You’ve been able to go on command for awhile now, but you were having trouble realizing you had to go until it was too late. Yesterday, you stayed dry ALL DAY, including during a short nap in the car! Most of me is so excited for you (and happy not to have to buy so many diapers!), but part of me is also really sad. It’s hard to believe that you’re going to be three years-old in just a few months…you’re really not a baby anymore.

“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.”

Lillia: This week you are on vacation from school. I have to admit that I have really missed our lazy mornings. Now that you’re back in school, it seems like we are always rushing. On Sunday the Easter Bunny gave you a book about drawing animals and you have been spending a lot of time looking at it and trying out the different techniques. We have other “learn to draw” books, but they are really too simple for you. This new guide is for more advanced artists…which is what you are now!

Zane: Your egg obsession continues! The Easter Bunny gave you a mother hen with baby chicks that “patch” (your word for “hatch”) from eggs, and also a book all about how robins build their nests and take care of their eggs and babies. I am so touched that you want to be a mother bird. I guess it means I’m doing something worth imitating, which is not only a huge responsibility but also a great honor.