You’re sitting in my lap right now, sleeplessly staring at the screen while I write to you. So we’ll do this one together.
Apropos, you’re going through a separation anxiety phase. Hey, it’s a little bit mutual; it’s not easy not being around your smushy smile whenever I want. It leaves me wishing I could give you so much more.
But you enjoy your daycare, you enjoy playing on your own (much of the time) and you enjoy… pretty much everything. Your generally positive ‘outlook’ on life is inspiring… and appreciated.
And you’re ambitious, too. You’ve got the sitting and crawling down, and for weeks you’ve been working on lifting yourself up, holding the coffee table. But as modestly as you make these strides, you gracefully take the falls…
Unless they are really harsh, in which case your ability to scream – well, like a little girl – terrifies me. Not that you’re hurt, because with a cuddle you’re fine. But that, well, you scream… like that. I didn’t know that stereotype was true.
Also, I’m not gonna lie to you, B. I’m enjoying dressing you up more than I thought I would. You’ll do whatever you want, style-wise… not worried about that. You do come from a line of women who go that way. But for now, I can enjoy a little ruffle here and red sparkle there.
Ok, and while we’re on the girl stuff… Bebe, you gotta stop pulling my hair!
Whadya got: