Dear Bode,

It would take a novel for me to describe all the ways in which I love and adore you. And another one to tell you how each day I commiserate and rejoice at your growth and development. You have brought immeasurable joy to your mother, father and sister this past year. You’re only two years old too. I just imagine it’s going to get better and better. And more and more joyous.

You’ve had quite the first two years of life little dudester. You were born in the loveliest of places. A vacation destination for millions that we got to call home. You arrived in the sun and sand, surrounded by idyllic weather and a community of friends that already loved you. We would take walks along the palm trees that go on seemingly for days and were passed by smiling people driving by in their convertible Mercedes. It was every bit as lovely as it sounds and you thrived. Were joyful and happy. And then, for the name of adventure we decided to leave that place and take you and your sister on what we hoped would be a character defining and soul enriching experience. You’ve spent much of your last year in transition while we waited to reach our final destination in Riyadh. You’ve slept in pack n plays, in 5 different homes in the last 9 months. You learned to walk in California and talk in Dubai. Whether you were in Utah or the Middle East, your list of admirers was long and you have continued to thrive. Rolling with the punches, remaining very even tempered, tolerating your mother’s anxiety and patiently waiting for her and your father to figure this new life out. You are many days my steady, my peace and calm in this sometimes Saudi dust storm. It’s a big job for a two year old baby and it’s a job you don’t even know is yours, but I depend on your judgeless smile, your open arms and your simple desire to 'seat and pay’ 10 times a day with me, to keep me grounded and to remind me why we took on this extraordinary move.

You continue to be the owner of a very sweet, very tender little heart. I tend to think you inherited this trait from your Uncle Boogs and your cousin Carter. Their sensitive ways are among my favorite things about them and I think you should feel lucky to have commandeered such a wonderful personality characteristic. You’re feelings are sometimes easily wounded.  A firm no, a shove or snatch from your older sister, a closed door while in time out can all elicit some tears. You are quick to recognize when someone is sad and try hard to remedy it. Many times in the past several months, I have watched you walk with open arms to a big sister who was struggling and sad. You will wrap your little arms around her waist, they barely go all the way around, and it seems to help her when nothing else can. She hugs you back and kisses your head and tells you she loves you and just like that, things are better. You request to kiss everyone before bed (you also request cars…) and just recently have started telling people,”yuv you” by your own free will and choice. Now, just because you’re sweet as can be, doesn’t mean you haven’t figured out this past year how to stand up for yourself. This is good. A balance of the two will serve you well in this life. You have recently figured out that throwing up your chubby little hand and saying, “Don’t. No!” is a fairly effective way of getting whoever it is, out of your business. You’ve also learned how to push Tessa’s buttons, mainly by doing exactly that, pushing her. From behind. Over and over and over while she yells, “MOM! Bode’s pushing me.” I usually get there just in time to see you smiling and laughing behind her.

While you have at times a great deal of energy and I feel the need to seek ways to expend it, your personality remains incredibly calm and easy going. Sometimes so easy going that it drives me bonkers. At the store, or the park, you are often 20 feet behind everyone else moseying along like you got no place important to be. Sometimes your hands are in their pockets (I’m just waiting to turn around one of these days to see you whistling a tune) or sometimes like at the zoo last week, they’re outstretched on both sides of your body while you proclaim, “LA LA LA! LA LA LA!”. You love to expend your energy outdoors and I worry everyday that you’re not getting enough outside time here in Riyadh as just heading out front to ride your new bike (which you adore, along with your helmet) is just not as easy a proposition as it is in the States. We did it the other day, but I had to watch very closely for speeding cars and that you not pick up any of the trash you loved riding your bike over and “getting it”. You love it when we can make it to the park and are just as happy to dig in the sand as you are to climb and slide about. You also love to go with me to get T from school so you can play on the playground or kick the soccer balls around. Other times you prefer to stay out with Iqbal and look for ‘catties’ i.e. stray cats that make me cringe, while I go inside to get your sister. You are still a lot of the time, the victim of her schedule, but you don’t seem to notice or mind.

When at home you bounce from “gaygo’s” (lego’s) to blocks to the train table to cars to my favorite of all, your chair in the cubby with some books. You find it impossible to watch a show without snacks and YOUR chair. None of this couch business for you. If you could, you would eat snacks all day long and skip the meals. You love to have a little Tupperware of animal crackers or oat squares in your hands and are never happy when I tell you no more after you’ve finished them for the third time. You love carbs and sweets and thank goodness will chug a healthy smoothie. You love to talk on the phone to dad, play puzzles, point to any man that barely even vaguely resembles grandpa and say “gampa!”. You look for Iqbal every time we walk out the front door and he is just tickled as can be that you have decided to “be his friend”. His words. You love to empty my cupboards of their pots, pans and utensils and line them up on the living room rug. You run back and forth from there to the kitchen, each time passing me and saying, “Cookin’!” You love bath time, you love to play with the water table and you still love to have a car in your clutch most times of the day. You have recently discovered naked is best. The other night at dinner we all just sat and watched (as we weren’t sure where this was all going) you stand up in your chair, and take off your diaper and throw it on the floor. (Your pants were already off). Then you started laughing hysterically. And so did we. Nakie butt at the table. You are recognizing your animals pretty well and love to point them out in books. Reading any book with you actually is more of a conversation as you get that little pointer finger out and point and recite anything on the page you have a word for. It’s darling.

You are enthusiastic and joyful. Your smile not only lights up your whole face but the whole room. For being a young two, you have quite the fan club. People think you’re darling (you are, it’s ridiculous how cute you are) and you are usually willing to oblige your many admirers with a hair pat (they die over your blond hair and blue eyes), a wave and hello or bye bye and just recently a “shukran” or thank you in Arabic. When I hear you say that, my whole heart smiles and I remain confident that we are indeed doing the right thing. You are learning at a very young age that all barriers in this world are non-sensical and created by people with prejudices. You will wave and smile at a woman veiled in a niqab at the mall, a service worker sweeping the garage, an old man on the street in his thobe and shumaya and the other Western kids at T’s school. You don’t see color, you don’t see class, you see people. I love this and hope it will stay with you all of your days. I pray that you will continue to maintain your easy going nature. It is a calm in this house and will continue to influence your family and others you meet. Part of me is devastated that you won’t remember more of this experience in Saudi. The other part of me knows it’s molding you and defining you in ways we might not know for years, and in ways that perhaps could never have been achieved among the palm trees and Mercedes of Orange County.

You have my heart on a string kid. You will despise me in 14 years for saying this, but you are my little boyfriend and my favorite one I’ve ever had. I can only imagine the things this life has in store for one as charming and cheerful and lovely as you. I mourn that you’re growing to fast but feel lucky as can be that I can tag along for this ride. I love you Mr. Jones. Bubbercakes Deliciousness and Sugarbutt. Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mama