Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Paper tastes better than blueberries
Dear Scarlett,
You had your 9-month appointment with Dr. Becker yesterday. After getting weighed (18 lbs 12 oz) and measured (28.5 inches), you sat on the exam table and ripped the paper covering to shreds. You then put several of those shreds in your mouth and refused to open it until you had swallowed them. When the doctor came in, I believe my exact words were, "Well, we suck at this." He just laughed.
You got a flu shot and barely noticed, then crawled around on the floor, seeking out all electrical outlets and laughing at the doorstop. "Gets 'em every time," said Dr. Becker. He told us that you will be walking early, before you are a year, and that you will love it. I can't wait to see.
We also found out it is time for more food, more often. So today you had your first official "lunch" of chicken, peas and sweet potatoes. I tried to get you to eat a blueberry afterwards, and you did, but not without "dramatic gagging"--Aunt Lizzie's words.
You learned how to clap your hands this week, and will now crawl down the hall, stopping every so often to clap for yourself. You are also making some animal noises: "hoo hoo" is your version of "woof woof", and you do a great baby monkey impression.
This is all perfect timing for our trip to Chicago next week, where you can show off all your new tricks!
Love,
Mom
You had your 9-month appointment with Dr. Becker yesterday. After getting weighed (18 lbs 12 oz) and measured (28.5 inches), you sat on the exam table and ripped the paper covering to shreds. You then put several of those shreds in your mouth and refused to open it until you had swallowed them. When the doctor came in, I believe my exact words were, "Well, we suck at this." He just laughed.
You got a flu shot and barely noticed, then crawled around on the floor, seeking out all electrical outlets and laughing at the doorstop. "Gets 'em every time," said Dr. Becker. He told us that you will be walking early, before you are a year, and that you will love it. I can't wait to see.
We also found out it is time for more food, more often. So today you had your first official "lunch" of chicken, peas and sweet potatoes. I tried to get you to eat a blueberry afterwards, and you did, but not without "dramatic gagging"--Aunt Lizzie's words.
You learned how to clap your hands this week, and will now crawl down the hall, stopping every so often to clap for yourself. You are also making some animal noises: "hoo hoo" is your version of "woof woof", and you do a great baby monkey impression.
This is all perfect timing for our trip to Chicago next week, where you can show off all your new tricks!
Love,
Mom
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Being your mom
Dear Scarlett,
In these letters, I am always telling you about you. It's an incredible thing, to be able to watch the way you change daily. Just seeing your reaction to a certain book can make my day (or at least make my hour.) But I think I need to start telling you about some other things, too. Like about me, and about Dad, and about things going on in the world. So here goes.
I went back to work on October 18. I've been really happy having that piece of my life back, even though I miss being with you. I've worked at home since we moved here from New York, so I spend a lot of time on the phone and the computer. In addition to my regular job, I've started writing for a website called Dotcoms For Moms. I am their Healthy Mom and I blog weekly about websites and products that I think other moms would appreciate. Please don't tell them I ate ice cream and pizza for dinner tonight.
Sometimes it gets a little lonely or hard to concentrate, but mostly, I can get a lot of things done without the interruptions of an office. And when that happens, I have a little extra time for you. When I was on maternity leave, we used to take walks every day. Now there's not as much time, but I try to walk for coffee with you and Aunt Lizzie every morning, or as often as I can. The staff at Peet's Coffee knows us very well. They claim that you're their favorite baby, and it does seem to be true. They stop whatever they're doing to talk to you when we walk in. You will sometimes reward them with a small smile for their trouble.
When I'm done working, it's time for just me and you. Sometimes you nap, sometimes we lie in bed and you hunt the cats. Sometimes we just sit in your room and play. You love standing at your music table, looking at pictures of animals, and crawling up and down the hall, with an occasional detour into the bathroom or kitchen. When you nap, I read books. I just finished one called Room that has really stuck with me. It's about a mom and her little boy who are trapped, and how much they love each other. I can't stop thinking about it. It was a terrifying and heartbreaking book, actually. It illuminated the innocence and adaptability of children, and the utter faith they have in their parents. You might read it one day and say that I'm crazy for having written about this when you were 8 months old. But the way the mother in the book feels about her son, her fierce need to protect him: that's how I feel about you.
Dad is on a business trip this week, in Denver and Chicago. Which, I assume, is why you chose this week to go through the most terrible bout of teething we've seen yet. Your nose and mouth are a faucet, and you were up all day and night on Sunday. Things seem to be getting better, and I'm hopeful that those devilish teeth will pop through very soon. We could both use some sleep. Since Dad is gone, I've caught up on my episodes of Glee, which is a great show that I will never watch with Dad because he would ruin it with his commentary. We watch 30 Rock and The Daily Show Together instead.
Dad got a personal trainer and has been working out at the gym a couple of nights a week. I'm really proud of him for this, and secretly hoping it will motivate me to work out more. I go to a yoga class once a week, but other than that, it's been tough to find time to exercise. Does following you up and down the hallway count?
My life right now is simple and complex at the same time. Simple because it needs to be: I work, I take care of you, I try to wash my hair. Complex because life requires so much more than those things, and sometimes it feels like I'm hiding from the rest of it. But this time won't last forever. So if some things are left undone while I watch you repeatedly try to get your hand into the cat food bowls, I'm good with that. I suspect those things will still be there when I'm ready for them.
I love you,
Mom
In these letters, I am always telling you about you. It's an incredible thing, to be able to watch the way you change daily. Just seeing your reaction to a certain book can make my day (or at least make my hour.) But I think I need to start telling you about some other things, too. Like about me, and about Dad, and about things going on in the world. So here goes.
I went back to work on October 18. I've been really happy having that piece of my life back, even though I miss being with you. I've worked at home since we moved here from New York, so I spend a lot of time on the phone and the computer. In addition to my regular job, I've started writing for a website called Dotcoms For Moms. I am their Healthy Mom and I blog weekly about websites and products that I think other moms would appreciate. Please don't tell them I ate ice cream and pizza for dinner tonight.
Sometimes it gets a little lonely or hard to concentrate, but mostly, I can get a lot of things done without the interruptions of an office. And when that happens, I have a little extra time for you. When I was on maternity leave, we used to take walks every day. Now there's not as much time, but I try to walk for coffee with you and Aunt Lizzie every morning, or as often as I can. The staff at Peet's Coffee knows us very well. They claim that you're their favorite baby, and it does seem to be true. They stop whatever they're doing to talk to you when we walk in. You will sometimes reward them with a small smile for their trouble.
When I'm done working, it's time for just me and you. Sometimes you nap, sometimes we lie in bed and you hunt the cats. Sometimes we just sit in your room and play. You love standing at your music table, looking at pictures of animals, and crawling up and down the hall, with an occasional detour into the bathroom or kitchen. When you nap, I read books. I just finished one called Room that has really stuck with me. It's about a mom and her little boy who are trapped, and how much they love each other. I can't stop thinking about it. It was a terrifying and heartbreaking book, actually. It illuminated the innocence and adaptability of children, and the utter faith they have in their parents. You might read it one day and say that I'm crazy for having written about this when you were 8 months old. But the way the mother in the book feels about her son, her fierce need to protect him: that's how I feel about you.
Dad is on a business trip this week, in Denver and Chicago. Which, I assume, is why you chose this week to go through the most terrible bout of teething we've seen yet. Your nose and mouth are a faucet, and you were up all day and night on Sunday. Things seem to be getting better, and I'm hopeful that those devilish teeth will pop through very soon. We could both use some sleep. Since Dad is gone, I've caught up on my episodes of Glee, which is a great show that I will never watch with Dad because he would ruin it with his commentary. We watch 30 Rock and The Daily Show Together instead.
Dad got a personal trainer and has been working out at the gym a couple of nights a week. I'm really proud of him for this, and secretly hoping it will motivate me to work out more. I go to a yoga class once a week, but other than that, it's been tough to find time to exercise. Does following you up and down the hallway count?
My life right now is simple and complex at the same time. Simple because it needs to be: I work, I take care of you, I try to wash my hair. Complex because life requires so much more than those things, and sometimes it feels like I'm hiding from the rest of it. But this time won't last forever. So if some things are left undone while I watch you repeatedly try to get your hand into the cat food bowls, I'm good with that. I suspect those things will still be there when I'm ready for them.
I love you,
Mom
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Faces
Dear Scarlett,
It is Sunday evening. Dad is watching football and swearing at the TV. I'm sure he won't be pleased with me for sharing that with you, but by the time you're reading this, I think you'll probably have experienced a few sporting events with Dad. So. That's what Dad is doing. We just ate Thanksgiving leftovers for what seems like the 47th time in three days, and they are still delicious. And still not gone.
You had your own small Thanksgiving feast. You liked pumpkin a lot, but were not all that impressed by the turkey. You sat in your highchair at the dining room table during dinner and drank an entire bottle while tilting your head sideways to watch everyone. I had one hand on your bottle and one hand on my food and I still managed to eat a couple of full plates. We were all so stuffed that night that we didn't even have room for pumpkin pie. We ate it for breakfast the next day.
You had a great time with Pops while he was here. You spent a lot of time roaming the hallway together and playing in your room. Pops brought you a book and an outfit, but you were most excited by the ribbon on the package. On Friday, we took you to the zoo for the first time. We saw lions, giraffes, monkeys, and penguins. And yet, your favorite animals were the ducks in the pond at the petting zoo. You started wriggling around in Pops' arms when you saw them, trying to get down to play with them. And those ducks don't even all belong to the zoo; most of them just flew in to hang around at the pond for a while.
You have several new faces that we've seen a lot lately. The first is Twinkle Eyes, which is a smiley face where your eyes disappear. The second is Scrunch Face, which is a mad face where your eyes disappear. The third is Tough Guy, which is a face for Daddy. It's a variation on Twinkle Eyes, but with less disappearing eyes, and more pouty lip. I'll try to get photos of all of these.
Your favorite book is Goodnight Moon. When Aunt Lizzie starts reading it, you rush over to her and sit patiently in her lap until the story is over. You love to pull yourself up to standing, and to "walk" around. You have started screeching again when you get excited, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are so shrill, you sound like a 1960s teenager at a Beatles concert.
You are so much fun, and we are enjoying every bit of you. Even Scrunch Face.
Love,
Mom
It is Sunday evening. Dad is watching football and swearing at the TV. I'm sure he won't be pleased with me for sharing that with you, but by the time you're reading this, I think you'll probably have experienced a few sporting events with Dad. So. That's what Dad is doing. We just ate Thanksgiving leftovers for what seems like the 47th time in three days, and they are still delicious. And still not gone.
You had your own small Thanksgiving feast. You liked pumpkin a lot, but were not all that impressed by the turkey. You sat in your highchair at the dining room table during dinner and drank an entire bottle while tilting your head sideways to watch everyone. I had one hand on your bottle and one hand on my food and I still managed to eat a couple of full plates. We were all so stuffed that night that we didn't even have room for pumpkin pie. We ate it for breakfast the next day.
You had a great time with Pops while he was here. You spent a lot of time roaming the hallway together and playing in your room. Pops brought you a book and an outfit, but you were most excited by the ribbon on the package. On Friday, we took you to the zoo for the first time. We saw lions, giraffes, monkeys, and penguins. And yet, your favorite animals were the ducks in the pond at the petting zoo. You started wriggling around in Pops' arms when you saw them, trying to get down to play with them. And those ducks don't even all belong to the zoo; most of them just flew in to hang around at the pond for a while.
You have several new faces that we've seen a lot lately. The first is Twinkle Eyes, which is a smiley face where your eyes disappear. The second is Scrunch Face, which is a mad face where your eyes disappear. The third is Tough Guy, which is a face for Daddy. It's a variation on Twinkle Eyes, but with less disappearing eyes, and more pouty lip. I'll try to get photos of all of these.
Your favorite book is Goodnight Moon. When Aunt Lizzie starts reading it, you rush over to her and sit patiently in her lap until the story is over. You love to pull yourself up to standing, and to "walk" around. You have started screeching again when you get excited, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are so shrill, you sound like a 1960s teenager at a Beatles concert.
You are so much fun, and we are enjoying every bit of you. Even Scrunch Face.
Love,
Mom
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Speaking Your Language
Dear Scarlett,
This weekend Dad and I took you to the playground. Dad was pushing you in the swing when a little 3-year-old boy came running up to me, yelled "BISTER!" and smacked me on the cheek with a chocolate cupcake. His Dad immediately ran over and told him to be gentle, at which point the boy yelled "BISTER" again, cracked up, and patted my cheek gently. Then he sat in my lap. His Dad looked a little surprised, but I didn't mind. He was very sweet and cuddly and we sat like that for a while, as he continued yelling his strange word and collapsing in giggles. No one knew what he was saying. When he got up and wandered away, his 1-year-old sister climbed into my lap.
I was telling Aunt Lizzie this story the other day and when I got to the "BISTER" part, you started laughing and would not stop. I don't know what that word means, but it is apparently some hilarious code word known only to children.
Love,
Mom
This weekend Dad and I took you to the playground. Dad was pushing you in the swing when a little 3-year-old boy came running up to me, yelled "BISTER!" and smacked me on the cheek with a chocolate cupcake. His Dad immediately ran over and told him to be gentle, at which point the boy yelled "BISTER" again, cracked up, and patted my cheek gently. Then he sat in my lap. His Dad looked a little surprised, but I didn't mind. He was very sweet and cuddly and we sat like that for a while, as he continued yelling his strange word and collapsing in giggles. No one knew what he was saying. When he got up and wandered away, his 1-year-old sister climbed into my lap.
I was telling Aunt Lizzie this story the other day and when I got to the "BISTER" part, you started laughing and would not stop. I don't know what that word means, but it is apparently some hilarious code word known only to children.
Love,
Mom
Monday, November 15, 2010
Back to where it all began
Dear Scarlett,
As I type this, the sound of boiling water in a teapot is coming from your room. Except there is no boiling water and no teapot. It's just you, in your crib, and the new high-pitched squealing sound that you've been making for a few days. This must be something you picked up while we were in New York.
We got back from our trip late on Friday night. You and I were completely exhausted, since you no longer like to sleep on planes. Dad picked us up at the airport, and as soon as we claimed our baggage, I realized I had left your stroller on the plane. So I had to get a security note, wait in the security line yet again, and head back to the gate. This is what happens when I am up for nearly 24 hours, and have just spent the past 6 wrestling with you in a miniature United Airlines chair as you try to eat every plastic bag that enters your line of sight.
New York was many things: wonderful, stressful, busy, and fun. There were days of missing you while I was working, and moments of holding you close when I came home. It was odd to think that if we'd never left New York, this is what life might be like for us--subway rides and cabs, strolling along the Hudson River, swinging in parks surrounded by immense buildings. I realized I hadn't been back to the city in an entire year, and I missed it. But I also know that we're in the right place in San Francisco, and I feel lucky that I had the chance to live in New York when I did.
We started our trip in Tribeca at Lem and Derek's. You met Max, their Boston Terrier, and the two of you crawled around together like old pals. Max licked your face, which surprised--but did not scare--you. Aunt Beverley and Vincent came over to see you and brought you a beautiful book of fairy tales called Once Upon a Time. You also met Roan, of Robotic Uprising fame, and took an immediate liking to him. The two of you ate lunch together in Brooklyn, and you frequently reached out to grab Roan's arm, staring at him with unabated interest. Big kids seem to thrill you.
You tried baby food in a jar for the first time, and after a very impressive showing with 4oz of sweet potatoes on our first night, you basically went on a hunger strike. We were able to get some food in you, but mostly it was just mashed bananas. You ignored almost everything else.
Nonnie joined us on Sunday night and the two of you spent the week exploring Manhattan and Jersey City while I was at work. You went to Grand Central Station and craned your neck to look at the ceiling, the public library where you met lots of other kids, and Eataly--Mario Batali's new, crowded food emporium.
Nonnie says you are crawling on your hands and knees now, but I haven't really seen it. You still move quickly on your tummy and like to cruise around that way the most. Your teeth are very visible now, and very sharp. Please stop biting me.
Dad had to leave on Tuesday, and you and Nonnie and I moved to a new hotel in New Jersey the next day. There you met many of my coworkers and clients, and you were calm and smiley the whole time. You continue to surprise me and Dad with your ability to handle travel. Even if you won't sleep on the plane, even if you eat nothing but bananas and milk, even if we are all sharing one small hotel room, you are almost constantly in a good mood.
Although...I would be in a good mood, too, if I was the ruler of that small hotel room. I want you to know that Nonnie and I spent one entire evening reading in the bathroom so that you could get your beauty sleep. Between that and the plane rides, I could really use a massage.
Ah, the teapot has stopped boiling and there again is the sound I love. The sound of your little breaths and snores as you sleep, maybe dreaming about skyscrapers and a massive river, a big window overlooking an entirely unfamiliar city, and that New York baby in the mirror.
Love,
Mom
As I type this, the sound of boiling water in a teapot is coming from your room. Except there is no boiling water and no teapot. It's just you, in your crib, and the new high-pitched squealing sound that you've been making for a few days. This must be something you picked up while we were in New York.
We got back from our trip late on Friday night. You and I were completely exhausted, since you no longer like to sleep on planes. Dad picked us up at the airport, and as soon as we claimed our baggage, I realized I had left your stroller on the plane. So I had to get a security note, wait in the security line yet again, and head back to the gate. This is what happens when I am up for nearly 24 hours, and have just spent the past 6 wrestling with you in a miniature United Airlines chair as you try to eat every plastic bag that enters your line of sight.
New York was many things: wonderful, stressful, busy, and fun. There were days of missing you while I was working, and moments of holding you close when I came home. It was odd to think that if we'd never left New York, this is what life might be like for us--subway rides and cabs, strolling along the Hudson River, swinging in parks surrounded by immense buildings. I realized I hadn't been back to the city in an entire year, and I missed it. But I also know that we're in the right place in San Francisco, and I feel lucky that I had the chance to live in New York when I did.
We started our trip in Tribeca at Lem and Derek's. You met Max, their Boston Terrier, and the two of you crawled around together like old pals. Max licked your face, which surprised--but did not scare--you. Aunt Beverley and Vincent came over to see you and brought you a beautiful book of fairy tales called Once Upon a Time. You also met Roan, of Robotic Uprising fame, and took an immediate liking to him. The two of you ate lunch together in Brooklyn, and you frequently reached out to grab Roan's arm, staring at him with unabated interest. Big kids seem to thrill you.
You tried baby food in a jar for the first time, and after a very impressive showing with 4oz of sweet potatoes on our first night, you basically went on a hunger strike. We were able to get some food in you, but mostly it was just mashed bananas. You ignored almost everything else.
Nonnie joined us on Sunday night and the two of you spent the week exploring Manhattan and Jersey City while I was at work. You went to Grand Central Station and craned your neck to look at the ceiling, the public library where you met lots of other kids, and Eataly--Mario Batali's new, crowded food emporium.
Nonnie says you are crawling on your hands and knees now, but I haven't really seen it. You still move quickly on your tummy and like to cruise around that way the most. Your teeth are very visible now, and very sharp. Please stop biting me.
Dad had to leave on Tuesday, and you and Nonnie and I moved to a new hotel in New Jersey the next day. There you met many of my coworkers and clients, and you were calm and smiley the whole time. You continue to surprise me and Dad with your ability to handle travel. Even if you won't sleep on the plane, even if you eat nothing but bananas and milk, even if we are all sharing one small hotel room, you are almost constantly in a good mood.
Although...I would be in a good mood, too, if I was the ruler of that small hotel room. I want you to know that Nonnie and I spent one entire evening reading in the bathroom so that you could get your beauty sleep. Between that and the plane rides, I could really use a massage.
Ah, the teapot has stopped boiling and there again is the sound I love. The sound of your little breaths and snores as you sleep, maybe dreaming about skyscrapers and a massive river, a big window overlooking an entirely unfamiliar city, and that New York baby in the mirror.
Love,
Mom
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
7 Months
Dear Scarlett,
What a week. I started work last Monday, and Aunt Lizzie took over as your nanny and main slobber receptacle. You did a great job together and I barely worried about a thing, except how much I missed seeing your chubby little face. But even that wasn't too big of an issue because I was incredibly busy right away, and because you are just down the hall during the day, so you helped me send some emails between naps.
Aunt Lizzie is documenting all of the things you do during the day, which include: Getting A Tooth! (Tuesday), taking all of your toys out of their cradle and then rocking the cradle back and forth for many, many minutes (Friday); taking Rigby for a walk (Thursday), and Getting Another Tooth! (Friday). You rarely cry or complain, and I can't tell you how relieved I am that this is working out so well.
It's good to be back at work. I missed the kind of interaction I have with my clients and coworkers, and I think it was the right decision to return to my job. By mid-day Thursday, though, I was having major withdrawal symptoms, and had to hold you for a while. You were happy to see me, and unfazed when I left again.
When I'm done working, we get to play together for a while, and then you take a nap and eat your dinner. Right now your favorite foods are sweet potatoes, peas, and squash. You are slowly beginning to tolerate avocado, but would rather smear it on your face than eat it.
You turned 7 months on Saturday and posed for pictures in your watermelon dress.
You have been blowing raspberries and spitting all over everyone and everything. This gets really messy, but makes me and Dad laugh a lot. You love to roll around in our bed and chase the cats, and I have to be very quick around you now, or you will have Smokey's tail in your mouth as you dive off the edge of the bed. Dad calls you a bruiser, because you are always kicking and scratching him. I try so hard to keep your nails trimmed, but a few days ago you woke up with a face full of scratches that made it look like you had napped with Edward Scissorhands. I have seen babies with longer nails than yours, but you will grow just the slightest edge of a nail and immediately feel compelled to wield it like a weapon. Dad has a cut under his eye to prove it.
I have always loved our time together, but I am really appreciating it now that I'm back at work. On Sunday, Dad and I went to a concert with Aunt Lizzie and Rob. We were gone all day, and you had your first babysitter who isn't related to us. I had a great time at the show, but missed you a lot. When we came home, the babysitter said you had barely eaten, so I took the opportunity to go into your room and feed you. You opened your sleepy little eyes and saw that it was me and the face you made was the best thing ever. You missed me, too.
I love you,
Mom
What a week. I started work last Monday, and Aunt Lizzie took over as your nanny and main slobber receptacle. You did a great job together and I barely worried about a thing, except how much I missed seeing your chubby little face. But even that wasn't too big of an issue because I was incredibly busy right away, and because you are just down the hall during the day, so you helped me send some emails between naps.
Aunt Lizzie is documenting all of the things you do during the day, which include: Getting A Tooth! (Tuesday), taking all of your toys out of their cradle and then rocking the cradle back and forth for many, many minutes (Friday); taking Rigby for a walk (Thursday), and Getting Another Tooth! (Friday). You rarely cry or complain, and I can't tell you how relieved I am that this is working out so well.
It's good to be back at work. I missed the kind of interaction I have with my clients and coworkers, and I think it was the right decision to return to my job. By mid-day Thursday, though, I was having major withdrawal symptoms, and had to hold you for a while. You were happy to see me, and unfazed when I left again.
When I'm done working, we get to play together for a while, and then you take a nap and eat your dinner. Right now your favorite foods are sweet potatoes, peas, and squash. You are slowly beginning to tolerate avocado, but would rather smear it on your face than eat it.
You turned 7 months on Saturday and posed for pictures in your watermelon dress.
You have been blowing raspberries and spitting all over everyone and everything. This gets really messy, but makes me and Dad laugh a lot. You love to roll around in our bed and chase the cats, and I have to be very quick around you now, or you will have Smokey's tail in your mouth as you dive off the edge of the bed. Dad calls you a bruiser, because you are always kicking and scratching him. I try so hard to keep your nails trimmed, but a few days ago you woke up with a face full of scratches that made it look like you had napped with Edward Scissorhands. I have seen babies with longer nails than yours, but you will grow just the slightest edge of a nail and immediately feel compelled to wield it like a weapon. Dad has a cut under his eye to prove it.
I have always loved our time together, but I am really appreciating it now that I'm back at work. On Sunday, Dad and I went to a concert with Aunt Lizzie and Rob. We were gone all day, and you had your first babysitter who isn't related to us. I had a great time at the show, but missed you a lot. When we came home, the babysitter said you had barely eaten, so I took the opportunity to go into your room and feed you. You opened your sleepy little eyes and saw that it was me and the face you made was the best thing ever. You missed me, too.
I love you,
Mom
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
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