Dear Cor,

You, my boy, are an absolute joy.  This is the first thing that comes to my mind, as I sit here to write this letter:  You bring an incalculable, inexplicable sense of joy with you, wherever you go.  Everyone notices it.  Everyone talks about it.  It’s so obvious.  It’s such a part of you.

And what a great association!  I can think of few traits that could servea s a better distinguishing quality.  This world is in great need of more joy.  And a rather elementary application of the mathematical principle of substitution makes it equally clear (if joy = Cor and Cor = joy):  this world is in great need of more Cor.  I guess I can’t speak for the rest of the world -- but I can speak for myself.  I can hardly get enough of you, my boy.  Your whole-hearted hugs and relentless appetite for wrestling and rough-housing.  Your deep belly laugh (often reacting to one of Elliot’s crazy antics).  Your twinkling blue eyes and your wide smile (even when it’s one of your cheesy put-on grins).  Your richly-intoned questions and exclamations (indecipherable though the words may be).  These all bring such wondrous joy to my heart.  To have you hurl yourself into my arms, with your fluffy golden wisps of hair brushing against my cheek is to experience the smile and embrace of God Himself.

Of course, I realize that your palette of emotions is much broader than this singular expression.  I’ve seen you sad.  I’ve seen you angry (oh boy, have I seen you angry!).  I’ve seen you scared.  I’ve seen you contemplative.  But even in these other emotions, I’m impressed with the way you go about things.  It’s a wonderful thing about being two:  you have unadulterated access to all these emotions.  You don’t put on airs.  You don’t pretend to be something you’re not.  You live in the moment, freely quaking with fear in the vicinity of the big dog tied up outside the grocery store, openly sobbing when your feelings are hurt by a sharp word or tone; and I really do think there’s a joy in that kind of emotional accessibility.  And when you show signs of happiness, peace, and contentment -- which is, quite frankly, the vast majority of the time -- then we can know, beyond the shadow of all doubt, that all is well.

I don’t expect it to stay that way forever (so don’t feel any undue pressure to freeze your emotional development on my behalf!).  I’m just appreciating you for what you are, right now.  And having been given the luxury of already raising a boy and a girl through these stages of development, it’s a nice place to be;  enjoying the moment.  I see now that I don’t have to be anxious or impatient for what’s to come (in a way that I couldn’t have seen it earlier).  I can just soak up the joy of my CW as a toddler (which is what I fully intend to do).

In the coming year, I can see that you’re going to become a lot more communicative.  You’re going to gain the ability to more fully articulate exactly what’s going on inside your head.  Already your words are acquiring greater and greater definition.  Even now, you’re starting to string words together.  And I have to say:  I’m very interested to observe how this will shape your personality.  Will your physicality start to play a lesser role?  Or will you always be something of an athlete (I can totally see it, given your already-incredible abilities in throwing, kicking, dancing, and such), even as your verbal abilities increase?  Will you show a more intellectual side?  Or will you be silly?  Will you tend to be funny or philosophical?  Will you be a mixer or a peace-maker in conversations and arguments with your brother and sister?  Or will you somehow manage to do both?  What unique observations will you have to bring about the world?  Or about our family?  I’m very curious to hear what you’re going to have to say, C-Dubs.  I have confidence that you’re going to turn out to be a wonderful person, in any event.  It’s such a privilege to have a front-row seat for the Cor William Asp Show!

Now, I also have the feeling that we’re going to have to do some work on your sense of obedience and submission to authority in the coming year.  It sounds so strict and authoritarian to put it down like that, in black-and-white.  And truth be told:  these are not popular concepts in our (Western) culture.  But I really believe the importance of Ephesians 6:1 and Proverbs 1:7.  “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.”  “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.”  I have every confidence that you’ll learn these lessons with time, Cor.  But I also have a sense that you may be something of a tough nut to crack.  You’ve got a good, strong will -- different than what we’ve seen with Elliot and Olivia (though not necessarily in a bad way!).  Combined with your natural physicality, you seem more prone to be a hitter and a tantrum-thrower.  And I hate to tell you this (on your birthday and everything), but that’s just not going to work.  It’s not going to be beneficial for your life or for anyone else’s.  We’ll still love you, of course, when you throw tantrums or swing fists.  But we’ve got to learn how to channel your energies towards better things.  I’ve had to learn these lessons for myself, of course -- and I still can’t say that I’m done with learning my lessons!  But we keep learning and growing, don’t we?  And if we can get your to stop hitting your mother and stop flopping your bottom to the floor when you don’t want to come -- then at least we’ll be off to a good start. :-)

Just know, Cor, that I’m praying for you.  I’m praying for you, and I’m doing my best to partner with God in bringing you up to be the best and brightest expression of God’s joy and delight that you can be!  I don’t expect it to be a perfect process -- but I’m committed to you through thick and thin.  I love you, Cor.  I love you so much I feel like I’m going to explode, sometimes.

Thanks for being the wonderful little person you are.  You’re my boy!  And I’m forever…

Yours Truly,

Daddy