I am teaching my son magic.

The most fantastic magic I know.

I am teaching him about the dancing of the wind in the trees, with long grasses, with Mama’s hair, and with bubbles Jordan is
learning how to blow.

About hugs from friends, about how to watch wild birds and not be frightened.

How to ask a dog if they’d like some pats—so they’ll understand—and how to understand their answers.

How to climb trees—not hurting them, not hurting yourself. Animal sounds: dog, cat, bird, crow, hawk, snake, bee, giraffe, cow, sheep, horse, pig, chick, duck, wolf... They make him very happy.

New ways to eat! With a spoon and a fork—mostly in the mouth anyway. New ways to move! Run, dance, spin, climb, crawl, backwards and forwards, up and down.

He makes new friends and now has names to go with people. He asks for and about people he knows. He remembers where family members stayed when they came to visit and he talks about them when we pass the hotel or go into their rooms... "GiGi" for Great-Gramma Martha, "PaPa", for Grandpa Bill, "Bubbu" for Gramma Ellen (we were trying for Bubbi but Jordan had other ideas),
"Auntie Mine" for Janet...

Jordan’s vocabulary grows everyday. He is finding ways to express himself in simple two and three word sentences. Funny ones
like "ask please pats" while he walks up to a dog and dog owner with one hand extended or "Daddy ‘umm" to tell Louis to eat something he thinks is yummy—come to mind.

The spring rains are ending. The final storms are passing through. The roses and a riot of late flowers are blooming; lilacs and daffodills are past. Jordan and I went out last week for a long walk and because Louis was studying and could not come with us
to enjoy it, we brought the evening home to him. We filled my big floppy green felt hat with springtime-- flowers, new leaves, a
stone or three from puddles, feathers, and seeds-- and presented them to the student at his desk.

Jordan has also discovered Winnie the Pooh and adores him.  Whenever Jordan sees him (on Jordan's sheets, on another child's clothes or toys, in books, in a store or on TV) out comes the excited cry of "Pooh! Pooh!". We've had a bit of trouble with that
at the video store.  Jordan saw a Pooh video and yelled "MINEMINEMINEMINE!!!!". There was some yelling and a few tears
when I told him we couldn't buy it. We found common ground by renting it, and a good time was had by all.

As that shows, not all with Jordan is easy or perfect. "Mine" and "No!" are two of his favorite words (Louis says he is practicing
to be two). I often remind myself he is just a little person learning and growing as little people do. Generally, though, we get along
well. I try to listen to him and he tries to listen to me. When this doesn't happen and conflict occurs I ask him to sit with me and
we talk about it; it seems a good method for now.

There are also tantrums...ugh...We try the sit and talk first but sometimes he is so upset, that all I can do is hold him and let him
work it out for himself. He is a strong child.

Notes on the rest of the household:

Louis' school year is drawing to a close and finals are looming as they tend to do. He has made Senior Articles Editor on the
UDC Law Review! He is now ranked 8 kyu as a Go player and still finds great enjoyment and challenge in it.

Summer work is still up in the air. There is a good fall back job, as a research assistant to a professor at Davis.

I've stopped my flute lessons again. There was simply not time for me to devote myself; I felt I wasn't getting enough out of it
because of that. I think my tone is better and relaxation level higher without the worry of whether or not I'm doing well enough
for my teacher hanging over my head all the time. Perhaps in the future, when Jordan is older, I'll try yet again.

Bozo cat just seems to get fatter. Her truce with Jordan is holding.

Hope this letter finds you well,

Jennifer

(This is from a series of mailings that were called the "Jordan Harold Updates" that were used to keep freinds and family updated as to Jordan's doings. The full set, running from his
early toddlerhood through our time in Alaska, will be up online soon.)

It is a long night here, mother's day night. It is a strange and beautiful, frightful joyous dance, this being a mother and not a wife.  I move through the house, sweeping/putting away/weeping at photos or grinning at my son's drawings. These steps are my own. 
I never seen to understand the strength it takes to get through the day till it has ended.

Now I sip my wine, marvel at its taste, and turn over in these same hands the carefully written mother's day card that tells me he
"loves reading with me" and that "I make him laugh". It is better than any valentine's day card or good night kiss or first day of
spring thaw.

I remain in awe and delight at this little person (growing all the time, becoming more himself every day), as well as nearly always rubbing the wear marks that being his mother - husbandless mother - leave on me.