Glee.


Dear Baby,

Forgive my endless hugging and smooching, but you are almost two years old. It is sending me into a near-panic to have you grow up so fast.

I also have moments of wondering if you are going to make it to your second birthday. We got rid of the glass dining table (supported only by a center stand) after we caught you standing on the edge of it – twice. We locked the living room window to open only two inches after we discovered that you could stand belly to second-story window on the two-inch ledge. This is where a writer’s imagination does her disservice. I won’t even go into the horrific images that pass through my terrified mind. You’re a climber, a daredevil, and you shout “skateboarder!” at every punk kid we see.

You’ve taken to putting one foot into a shoe box lid, and pushing yourself down the hallway with your other foot, yelling, “Look Mama! Ti-ti skateboarding!” Last week, I found you precariously balanced, both arms outstretched, on an overturned xerox box on the bed. As the box shifted back and forth on top of the comforter and pillows, you shouted, “Mama! Ti-ti surfing!” and then with a “Ti-ti jumping!” you threw your body off the box and onto the bed with peals of laughter. Action verbs are going to be your thing.

You’re irresistibly cute and snuggly still, thank goodness. When you say, very clearly, “I NEED MAMA,” my heart just about breaks every time.

I love you, Dear.

Let’s go have some more fun.

Love,

Mama
P.S. In this video, the warm water that Christy is talking about is some other water park – the water Christian is flinging himself into here in the Children’s Garden is pretty dang cold.

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