Simon,



Welcome to the world! I know your mom fed you lots of tasty fresh 
vegetables and daily lattes, but I'm so glad you decided to leave that
 warm comfy womb and come out to greet us! 

We've now known each other
for 137.5 hours to be exact. Many of which you've been sleeping, or
eating, but many you've spent hanging out with me! Your two 
grandmothers are here, so I only get so much time with you. But over
 the years, we will share many hours hanging out. I'm so excited to
 play in the dirt with you. Take you to the snow capped mountains, fish-filled oceans, and into the desert. Show you how to work and
 enjoy all aspects of life. But for now your mom and I have to change
 your diaper every day. Repeatedly! When the midwife told me how often
 we have to change it I thought geez... I'm going to have to get back at
 you someday! Not sure what I'll do yet but I'll think of something.
 Maybe make you change MY diaper or something. Hopefully that won't be
 the case.



I planned on making a video for you to change it up a little from all
 these letters you're reading. If you're anything like me, you will be 
ready for a new distraction after the first 10 minutes of reading (not because the letters aren't worthy of your time but because you
 can't stay focused for that long!) But I decided to be boring and write a
 letter in case we make a book of these letters. In our day it's not
 so easy to embed a video into a coffee table paper book. But I do have an 
electronic book reader... See - we aren't THAT old!



Anyway. I wasn't planning on writing a letter, because I try and focus 
on doing things I'm really good at and letting other people do things
 I'm not so good at. Hopefully you will too. But with all these family
 members and friends writing, I decided to get in on the action!



You are going to be, and already are, awesome. Seriously great. A
 quality man. I'm excited.



Love,
 Dad

Little Si,

I’m smitten with you.

When your mom told us she was pregnant, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

When I saw your mom at Christmas and her belly was starting to poke out a bit, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. And even when your Aunt Marion sent me pictures of the growing belly, the birthing tub, the midwives and at 5:55p on June 6^th, you laying on your mom’s belly, I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

I shed tears of excitement, joy (and OK, some of nervousness!) at various points over the past 9 months, but how could I ever imagined you?? How could I ever imagine how much I would love you?

Your Uncle Faris & I have plenty of friends with children we love, but you… You are this tiny, precious, red, flustered and unbelievably amazing bundle of joy. You smell delicious, your coos are quite possibly the cutest sounds I’ve ever heard and your skin… there’s some truth to that whole “soft as a baby’s bottom” saying ;)

And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you are loved. You are so incredibly loved. Not just by me, but by our whole family.

I arrived in Seattle on Thursday, June 7^th , the night after you were born. I flew from NYC and your Aunt Marion picked me up at the airport. The moment we arrived at 908 Cushman, I immediately stole you away from your Grandmother Juju. If it wasn’t love at first sight, it was love at first hold. You were meant to be cradled and cuddled. You were meant to be sniffed and tickle-scratched. And that baby voice that adults use that used to be so annoying? You were definitely meant to be spoken to in that voice.

And that’s what we’ve done for the past three days. You’re quite boob-obsessed at the moment – I’ve heard that part sticks with you for life ;) – but whenever I could get you away from your mom’s boobs (or your grandmothers or Aunt Marion), we had our moments. But I didn’t get enough!

Now I’m on a plane back to New York City and I’m already trying to figure out when I can come back and see you next! I can’t wait for your Uncle Faris to meet you! I didn’t know it was possible to be so head-over-heels smitten with you.

I know you’ll get bigger and bigger, but don’t worry – it’s not just your tiny-ness that I love. I can’t wait to see the guy you become. [We’re both Geminis and while horoscopes seem a bit hokey, I can’t help thinking that this means we’re going to get along especially well.] I can’t wait to hear about your favorite toys, your favorite color, your favorite class in school, your favorite bands, where you’re going to college, what you want to do with your life, who you’re dating, who you’re voting for… There’s so much of the world for you to discover! I promise to always love you and only to tease you when you need it ;)

‘Til next time, little guy. Don’t get too big just yet. And let your mom sleep a little bit, OK? She worked pretty freakin’ hard to bring you into the world!

Your ever-loving aunt,

rosie

PS – Your Aunt Marion and I were changing your diaper the other day while your mom was sleeping and you decided it would be the perfect time to pee. Yup, on us. We’re gonna hold that over your head for a long, long time. We’ll get you back someday ;)

Simon,

Howdy from the hills of Tennessee. Nashville to be more precise. It's your grandfather on your mom's side here.  A bit about me.  I was born to Si and Rosie (Sprague) Siman in the hills of the Ozarks. Springfield, Missouri.  Queen City of the Ozarks.  A hillbilly by birth.  Two older sisters, Susan Elizabeth and Jayne Louise.  Si was a music guy and my mother a beautiful loving woman who took care of the kids and the household.  With Indian blood I'm told.  So there's a little bit of Indian blood in you too.  Cherokee we think.  A brave tribe indeed.  I followed in my father's footsteps (pretty big ones I might add) for my career and I'm a music man too.  You probably have a little of that in your blood too.  Your dad's got some of that too!  And your Mom, well ask her some day to play you a song she wrote and recorded.  And if she won't, I will play it for you! I digress.

SoI don't know your name yet, and of course you don't know mine.  And odds are you won't be calling me by my name (heck, you won't even be talking for a while!).  And odds are I won't be calling you by your name to start out.  You will be known by lots of nicknames until you get old enough to declare how you would like to beknown.  Many of the nicknames will be cute and somewhat embarrassing but hey, ya gotta roll with it.  I promise you when you get older I will go with your choice. Your aunt Rosie was Rosanne until one day she wasn't!  Till then, sweet cheeks, munchkin, cutie pie, probably something that rhymes like "buddywuddy" will be your moniker (fancy word for name!) Your personality will help dictate these nicknames but sometimes it's just circumstances beyond anyone's control.  Especially yours. So try and behave as an infant least you end up with a funky nickname.  I'm sure you will have a special toy or comfort itemto help on this point – your Mom's was a piece of string – ormore specifically a piece of fuzzy yarn.  It started from apiece of yarn off a blanket.  Who needs the blanket, give me the yarn!  Your Mom never actually said that but that's how she felt.  Where was I?  Oh yes, names.

On my end, I could simply hope for the best when it comes to my Grandpappy name.  Rosie's dad died before I was born so I just knew him as George in pictures.  He was a large man who workedon the Frisco Railroad.  Her mom (Ruth) was the classic Granny. I called Si's dad (Ely Earl) Bump or Bumpa.  He could fix anything.  I loved him dearly.  We played with trains and went to junkyards together.  Hope we get to do some cool stuff like that one day.  I spent the night a lot with Bump and his wife (Lillian) who we called Nanna. Pronounced "Naw Naw." But back to my name.  There's a chance that you will come up with something clever to call me but I'm not one to leave things to chance.  Especially since you are the first and will be showing the other grandkids that follow the path! Kids notoriously have trouble pronouncing certain letters and then I'm liable to end up with something that is a cute name.  Not good for a hip old man. I have a reputation to uphold!  And then the cute namesticks.  Ugh!  So, to help, I've done a little research ona thing called "Wikipedia." You type in several words on athing called a "keypad" into a "search engine" ona thing called the "world wide web" on your "MacBookPro" and it shows you all types of information.  Like magic!  We used to do this through printed books called "encyclopedias." One year my Mother bought a set of "WorldBooks."  I just can't tell you how cool those were.  But I digress.

Inregard to Grandfather, Wikipedia says: Inwriting, Grandfather and Grandmother aremost common, but very rare when referring to a grandparent in person.In speech, Grandpa and Grandma aresometimesused in the UnitedStates and Canada.In Britain, Ireland, States,Australia, NewZealand and Newfoundlandand Labrador, Nan, Nana, Nanna, Nada,Nanny, Gran and Granny andother variations are often used for grandmother in both writingand speech. Numerous other variants exist, suchas Gramp, Grandpap, Grampy, Granddad,Granddaddy,  Grandpappy, Pop,and Pappy forgrandfather; Grandmom,Grandmama,"Granny" and Grammy/Grammie for grandmother and Gogo foreither, etc.

So as relates to the variant for you and me, I am going to recommend you call me "Scooter!"  Or perhaps "Grandpa Scooter." I had that as a nickname as a kid.  You have to admit, it kinda rolls off the tongue.  "Scooter, Scoooooter, Scoooooooter!!!!"  "What time is it Scoooooter???" "Are we there yet Scooooter????"  "Can I have some ice cream Scoooooooottttteeerrr???" and that's where I say "Yes!  Chocolate or Vanilla? Or both?!" "Strawberry is fine too!"  "We can share a banana split if you like and get all three flavors!!!! Don't tell your mom!" That's a famous grandparent saying, by the way – sometimes a dad saying too – like when my dad hit me with his car while I was riding a bicycle around our horseshoe shaped driveway at Rosie Acres. And he uttered those fateful words, "Let's not tell your mom about this."  To which I wholeheartedly agreed in fear of losing substantial bike riding privileges.  Hey, accident happens.  And I wasn't hurt anyway.  But I did fly over the handle bars, landed on the hood, and was face to face with my Dad through the glass windshield.  Fair to say we were both a bit surprised! But still I digress.

Now that we have the formalities aside, and we know how we will greet each other - "Hey Kiddo!"  (Note: you will always be a"Kiddo" or a "Buddy") "Hey Grandpa Scooter!"- we can get on to some important things in life.  Always listen to your parents.  They really are smarter than you think.  They might make some mistakes but their hearts will be in the right place. And you will make some mistakes too, but I pray your heart willbe in the right place.  Eat your veggies.  They're good foryou.  Hated them as a kid, love them as an adult.  That'strue for a lot of things.  Don't watch too much TV.  TV wasbasically invented when I was born.  Talk about a game changer. Exercise.  It's amazing what that can do for you!  I play golf – it barely qualifies as exercise but my doctor told me it did and I'm rolling with it.  "A round of golf counts asa workout," he said.  Now that's a good doctor.  Read. Every year I went to school was better than the last andreading was the key.  Your Mom and Aunts were amazing readers. Couldn't keep enough books around.  Berenstain Bears wasvery popular.  Goodnight Moon was a winner.  Have you found the mouse yet?  I read Bugs Bunny as a kid.  Rascally Rabbit.  We would go to the public library and check books out to take home.  With a small paper card called a "librarycard" that had a piece of metal in it with a number so they knew who had the book.  Which they copied on to a piece of paper withink!  Crazy, I know!!! And if you were late bringing it back you paid a fine.  Go figure!  But I completely digress.

You are coming at a monumental time in my life.  They say things come in three's.  Teresa (my adoring second wife who based on her Spanish heritage would like to be known as Abuela) and I just signed a contract to sell our house on Nichol Lane, I launched a record company (yesterday as a matter of fact) and YOU.  You are the third!  As to the contract for the house, your Mom and her sisters have pretty much moved away and they ain't coming back. We raised three independent minded strong willed smart women. Independence is a good thing.  We have a huge house with a pooland a golf green. Between you and me, I'm not gonna miss the house so much.  Way to many light bulbs.  But that golf green, can't begin to tell you how much that's helped my game!  I will miss that.  My golfing buddies hope my new place won't have one. Now I'm totally digressed to the point of rambling.  Oh, yes,back to the record company.  It's called rpm and our first act is Maggie Rose.  I hope when you're readingthis you're like, "Wow, Maggie Rose.  She was huge!" Then again you may just turn up your nose at our music.  Most kids do until they go through the retro stage.   That'swhen you will discover the Beatles, the Stones, Zeppelin, Scott Joplin, Gary Stewart, Tim McGraw, Brenda Lee, and whatever elsestrikes your fancy.  And you will discover the music Sipublished and learn how he got Chet Atkins arecord deal. We listen to songs on an iPod or iPhone.  No telling how you will listen to music.  Makes my business scary! In my early days we played songs on a turntable and they were in a "groove" on a piece of plastic called a "record."  Quite quaint!  There I go again, rambling.

OK, back to you.  Welcome!  You will be born in Tacoma but you have roots in Tennessee and Missouri and Spain and gosh know whereelse.  We have a house in Isla Mujeres, Mexico and perhaps oneday you will go there!  We may not still own the house when you get old enough to go but you can look at it and say my grandparentsused to own that.  They say we are 99.9% similar in DNA; it'sthe .1% that makes us different.  Embrace your difference andembrace the difference in others.  Say please and thank you. Never hit a girl.  Never.  And I will leave you with these words of wisdom I used to tell your aunt Rosie, your Mom Lillian andyour aunt Marion when they would get out of hand:  No biting, no fighting, no hitting, no spitting and no fussing.  And your mom is not a chair.  The kids would climb on your Grandmother Judy (who was and is a great mom).  Relentlessly.  So I made up a song about it but can't quite remember how it goes.  Which happens when you get older.  You forget!  I also made upstories about the Ice Princess and the a little dinosaur that gotcaught up in storm and whisked away to a cloud only to be rescued by a bird.  All because he didn't come home when his Mom told him too. Come home when your Mom and Dad tell you to.  Rather than hoping I remember everything, it's part of my motivation for writingthis letter.  I'm 57 years old.  When you hit your teenage years I will hit the big 70.  Egad.  There's a lot ofthings you need to know as a teenager and instead of imparting years of wisdom and life experience, I will be trying to figure out where I put my car keys.  Best to write some of this down. Speaking of writing, your Mom is a fine writer.  Her Mom is a fine writer too (you need only see her letter dated April 30 to know what I'm talking about).  I write in choppy little funny sentences that spellcheck says are "fragments" but it's best read aloud. In a group.  Where people can clap when you're done!  Must be the "show business" in me.

I will see you shortly, hug the snot out of you, hold you like a football, rock you in a rocking chair, make funny faces to you, talk baby talk, change your poopydiaper, wipe your bottom and hand you back to yourparents and enjoy a nice glass of wine.  Hey, I think I'm gonna enjoy being a grandparent.

Hugs and kisses,

Grandpa Scooter

Christened Scott Foster Siman 

Grandpa Scooter, Aunt Marion, Mom, Abuela

Grandpa Scooter, Aunt Marion, Aunt Rosie, Mom

Grandpa Scooter and Mom

 your Mom, Judith Lillian Siman at the Grotto

41 weeks

Dear baby,

Yesterday, the day you hit 41 weeks, was the longest day of my life.

I'm afraid your delayed arrival has reduced me to superstition, little one. A blue balloon spontaneously flew past our house earlier this week and I got a little too excited about the prospect of imminent labor.

Needless to say, you're still holding out on us... but I'm believing that I'll be too busy in the throws of labor to attend my ultrasound appointment on Thursday.

Is that too much to ask?

I love you.

From your mama

P.S. We planted you a birthday tree in the front yard. It's an apple tree with 3 kinds of apples grafted together and just like you, it's going to grow and grow and bear fruit. It's a little bitty tree now, but it's going to be 20 ft high by the time you're having babies of your own...