Apparently all diaries are supposed to begin with “Dear diary,” but that’s a bit cliché, I think.

Today I learned that Michael and I are expecting for the third time. We couldn’t be more excited, and can’t wait to have a new baby to raise corrupt (from Michael). Raise. (Michael please don't read my diary.)

On the way home from the doctor, I thought about how Tom and Pete had grown up so much in such a short time. It occurred to me that beyond pictures and home movies, that I couldn’t remember much of the day-to-day events since they joined our family. So I decided that starting today I’m going to keep a diary of my life in order to remember each day of it.

I would love a little girl. I think Michael would too. He would spoil her to no end and love it. Her brothers would be protective of her, while her father would begin worrying about boys the moment she steps into daycare.

On the other hand, a third boy would exciting. Raising two boys has been quite an adventure and a third could only increase that. I guess raising children, boys or girls, is an adventure each day regardless.

For a girl I like Julia Rose Halpert. For a boy I like James Adam Halpert. Michael and I will discuss that later. Right now we’re too preoccupied with the thought of a new baby. There’s nothing more wonderful and exhausting than having a baby in the house. Of course it will be difficult with already having two boys who by then will be 5 and 3. But we’ll manage like we always do.

Mostly I’m excited for onesies and blankets. For fingers and toes and new teeth. For walking, talking, discovering. For scraped knees and bumped heads made better by a kiss. For Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin and all of the childhood essential stories. For a new person to love and adore and protect no matter what. For a baby.

Today Peter had his first full day of kindergarten. It was my first full day alone with Jimmy in quite a while. I think he felt somewhat confused without having his brother around.

However, I had more fun than I would have thought could come from a two year old. After dropping Tommy and Peter off at school, I met my sister, Catherine, and my niece, Carolyn, for coffee. Now Jimmy really loves music, and he loves to sing to songs he knows the words, or at least the tune too. One of my favorite songs, "Joy to the World," by Three Dog Night came on over the radio, and before I could turn to him and tell him to listen to what was playing, he had stood up in his stroller and began singing the words at the top of his lungs for the whole store to hear. At first I could only think of how the other customers would react, but I quickly lost that fear when the other people started to clap along with the music for him. I think it was one of those special, serendipitous moments in life that can only happen once and are nothing short of amazing. The joy I saw in my son's face and in the faces of the other customers made me happier than i could have imagined.

Now here's the best part. Jimmy completely ate it up. As people began to clap for him, he began to get more and more into the music. I indulged him by picking him up and putting him on the sturdy coffee table to be a stage for him. He started to walk around his "stage" and hold a cup as a microphone, as he danced and sang for all to hear. When the song ended the customers clapped loudly for him, and he continued to ham it up with deep bows. Catherine and I agreed that he is the most creative two year old we've met.

Later, Jimmy and I went to the park to feed the ducks. His entertaining side came out again when instead of simply feeding the ducks he started imitating them by waddling around and quacking. An old couple stopped for a moment to watch him then commented on what a "precious, special boy" I have. I like that. If there's one word to describe Jimmy it's certainly special.

On the walk home, I watched Jimmy kick a small rock up the sidewalk, running ahead to kick it after it stopped. This simple activity showed such a contrast from the wild, entertaining singer from the coffee shop earlier that morning. I think the best part of his personality is that he has two distinct sides that are already so apparent at only two years old. I can't help but wonder what he'll be when he grows up. With any luck, he'll join a Three Dog Night cover band and sing in coffee shops for the rest of his life. In all seriousness though, I can imagine him being some sort of entertainer. He sure loves making people around him happy.

January 18th, 1981

I thought Jimmy would enjoy watching Bambi. I was wrong and I stand corrected. The gentle soul in him could not handle seeing Bambi's mother get killed. When Bambi and his mother started running from the hunters, he grew nervous. Then when they shot her, he yelled, "No!" and threw the blanket over his eyes, and cried. Something about that affected him deeply. I think he's very compassionate that way.

Instead we turned to his favorite movie, Jungle Book. By the time "Bare Necessities" rolled around, I thought Bambi's mother was forgotten. That was until later, when he asked me, "Mommy why did that man shoot Bambi's mom?" I could only tell him that some people try to hunt animals for a sport and don't think about the fact that they're hurting the animals. He got very quiet, and then told me that he would never, ever become a hunter because a hunter could shoot a deer that was someone's mom and not even know it. I told him I thought that was very noble of him, and he said, "I guess so. I'd rather live in the jungle with Baloo and Mowgli anyway." Then he walked off, happily singing "Bare Necessities."