Now that the weather has turned, Ruby and are back to our routine of going for a run after I'm home for work. I strap her in the hand-me-down running stroller a friend gave us, riddle the side satchel with fruit snacks, water, maybe a baby Elmo, and off we go.

The first leg of our journey starts behind our place alongside a giant reservoir. We talk about birdies and goggies ("doggies"), and then we climb. For living in the western suburbs…

Ruby,

Just after you were born and we had announced your name, your great-grandparents, Jack and Jo-Jo the Great, would not stop saying the phrase "Ruby Tuesday." They would sing-song it, they'd twirl as they spoke it, and I'm not sure it would be out of line if I mentioned that I thought I saw Jack the Great do a tiny jig once while he said it to you. I wouldn't say it was annoying, because I'm trying to write you a really sweet birthday…

If you've known my wife and I for any length of time, it won't come as any surprise to know that our house is a lively one. We talk a lot, we laugh a lot, we play a lot of music. I wouldn't say it's a "quiet home."

And now we've got this 16 month old toddling about adding her two cents, which is a lot more like buckets and buckets of change clanging on the floor. The sound is glorious...and loud. Ruby's got about 20 solid words in her…