I am finding AJ�s letters a tough act to follow. They are so straightforward, honest and succinct � all qualities I would do well to bear in mind as I try to put the finishing touches on � big gasp � the final draft of my dissertation. It really is starting to feel almost finished. I can�t quite believe it.

The dissertation, of course, is wrapped in its own set of performance anxieties. I�m afraid to call it done, because that makes a statement about how I feel about its quality. I have come to the realization that I will never be wholly satisfied with it, but I will be infinitely less satisfied if I don�t finish it. I�m starting to think about other projects. I think I�m ready to acknowledge the light streaming in the far side of the tunnel.

AJ has no such concerns. He is wholly wrapped up in the moment. Since he first saw �It�s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown� before Halloween, the moment in which he has been wrapped up revolves around the world of the Peanuts. We play the game where Lucy (Me) pulls the football away from Charlie Brown (AJ), a game he used to refer to as �The Fall Down Game� but he now refers to as the somewhat more manly �kicking place kicks.� We also play the �Schroeder and Lucy Game,� where he sits at his tiny piano while together we reenact the scene from �A Charlie Brown Christmas� where Lucy tries to get Schroeder to play �Jingle Bells� the way she likes it and eventually bowls Schroeder over with her enthusiastic, �That�s It!� Every now and then, we play pretend baseball where AJ, as Charlie Brown, pitches and I try to �knock his socks off.�

This week, in order to assist with my wintertime spinning workouts and my teaching prep, I have acquired a VCR/DVD player in my office, which is also the room that houses my KX-88 keyboard and AJ�s diminutive toy one. AJ now asks to watch his favorite Snoopy videos down here. He drags his piano in front of the TV and sits with fingers hovering over the keys so he can play along each time �Linus and Lucy� makes an appearance. He�s remarkably good at pitch matching and desperately wants to play the whole song, but his piano doesn�t have enough keys and his fingers can�t quite reach the right notes on my full-sized piano. He gets frustrated and asks me to play, then, much like Lucy, gets frustrated all over again when my own poorly trained fingers stumble over the notes. And it�s performance anxiety all over again.

I received a number of comments on AJ�s letter to Lucas. �You knock my towers down,� was not a response to 9/11 footage nor a metaphoric statement meant to imply extreme adoration. AJ meant what he said quite literally: AJ builds towers of blocks and Lucas knocks them down. It is, however, unclear whether this particular interpersonal dynamic is problematic for AJ. It may very well be part of the game. So in fact, the statement may be a complement of sorts. Then again, it may be a letter of complaint. The statement, �you knock my towers down,� is not, however, intended as metaphoric on any level. AJ, like most three-year-olds, is very, very literal. Metaphors are lost on him completely. I believe I mentioned here before that when told, after a particularly impressive run of basketball plays, �AJ, you�re on fire!� he became extremely alarmed and had to be reassured that he was not really on fire. And rest assured that even if he were, he is fully in command of �Stop, Drop and Roll.�

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