One of my gifts to you this year is to have your monthly letter published on the actual day of your 36 month (read: 3 YEAR!) birthday. It’s a small gift and one that you might not really appreciate until you’ve grown up (if then), but I’m doing it because you deserve it. You deserve to be put first– ahead of laundry and dishes and other sorts of cleaning–on your birthday. So here it goes.

The past three months have been super duper incredible, Jude. Back in March, Papa and I got you a Strider PreBike as an early birthday gift. At first I was nervous because you didn’t quite seem to understand how to sit down on the bike’s seat and make the thing go. As I’m sure you’re well aware, your mama is a needless worrier, and this instance proved no different. Less than a week after getting your bike, you were zipping around on it, pushing off with your feet, then pulling them up and coasting along the sidewalks. Now you can swerve and circle around on your bike; you go down hills like a pro. I love watching you in your flame-embellished helmet. It’s amazing to see you on two wheels at such a young age!

Over the past quarter of a year, your mastery of the spoken word has increased by leaps and bounds. I remember one morning… You woke up and sat straight up in bed. “I awake!” you exclaimed. Then, “Good morning, Mama. How are you? I dream I superhero. And Mama superhero, and Papa super hero.” And then, “Hi, Papa! How are you? I dream I superhero. And Papa superhero, and Jude superhero, and Mama superhero. I get up now.” Finally, you took a breath and hopped out of bed. From that day forward, you’ve been talking nearly non-stop. And the awesomest part is–I can decipher nearly all that you say.

This past week I wrote about some of the imaginative play you’ve been engaging in. I love watching you pretend to be a butterfly, a whale, an elephant. I love it when you pretend to be different characters from the movies you watch. It makes me smile every time you announce that you’re “Bart Simpson” while you sling your backpack over your shoulders and find a clear piece of floor to play with your “battle balls.” Papa likes it when you climb up on to the bed, spread your arms wide and exclaim “To infinity and beyond!” and propel yourself face first onto the mattress.

You’ve made a bunch of big developmental strides during the past few months. You no longer need me to lie with you until you fall asleep at night. Some books, a song, and some cuddles, and then I’m free to relax on the couch at night. Recently, you’ve chosen to make underpants a part of your daily attire. At the playground, you climb, climb, climb! You like to sit atop the tunnel on the small playground and you like to s-t-r-e-t-c-h you arms wide and use your legs to hold on as you reach for the chin-up bar on the big playground. I remember when you couldn’t do either of those things. I think it was last week.

Lately, you’ve been making known your opinion on your Papa having to go to work: you don’t like it. Many mornings are spent trying to make you understand that Papa needs to go to work; that Papa being gone means that Mama can stay home and be with you. It breaks Papa’s heart to have to leave, but I think deep down, he’s happy he’s so loved.

Where do we go from here, Monkey? You’re THREE years old today. Next year you’ll be four, then fourteen, then forty. You just keep growing up; keep moving away from that newborn I held in my arms and cried over three years ago. I’m glad that life forces us to take things one day at time. I want to savor every minute of your growing up.

You bring your Papa and me such joy, Jude. You are, simply put, our greatest accomplishment.

Love,

Mama

The other day, Papa mentioned that you’re now officially closer to being 5 years old than you are to being a newborn. I’d like to tell you that I responded in a calm, rational fashion, but the truth is, I (mentally) kicked him in the shins and (actually) got all choked up.

The past thirty or so days have been kind of crazy for us. It’s still cold, windy, and (a bit) snowy here in Chicago, so we’ve been doing our best to keep ourselves occupied while being holed up indoors. We’ve started visiting the Evanston Public Library two or three times a week. Their entire first floor is a dedicated children’s space: there are steps to climb, mats to roll and jump on, toys to play with, crayons and coloring sheets to complete, puppets to animate, blocks with which to build, a tree house to hid in, and, of course, a poop-load of books. Your favorite toy in the entire library is a fairly realistic-looking plastic lion. As soon as we shed our outdoor clothing and shoes, you make your way towards the library’s set of animals, pick up the lion, and tote him around with your for the duration of our stay. The few times we couldn’t find the lion, you told me he was probably sleeping, with a blanket, and that maybe he would be awake next time.

I recently stumbled upon a website called No Time for Flash Cards. You and I have been having a great time replicating some of the activities Allison, the blog’s author, has written about: we’ve made an alligator out of the letter A; assembled a rain stick out of a cardboard tube, some rice, a pipe cleaner, tin foil, and tape; turned our living room into a cafe; and transformed a shoebox into a mailbox. You and I have also been spending a lot of time building towers out of your Duplos and houses from your Lincoln Logs. You’ve been painting and stickering nearly non-stop for the past month. I can never seem to completely de-sticker my clothes before leaving the house these days; just yesterday a friend pointed out the mushroom sticker on my elbow that I had overlooked while getting ready to go out.

We’re both ready for the weather to warm up. You’ve been running around in circles (literally) a lot lately, and I’ve been trying my best to come up with some energy-expending indoor activities. Sometimes you’ll do my PT exercises or some yoga with me; other times we set up my yoga mat as a jumping station and practice leaping over various objects.

I can’t believe that in less than three months you’ll be three YEARS OLD. How exactly did that happen? Last thing I remember, you were 21.5 inches long and asleep on my chest. Before you were born, I marveled at how quickly the years were flying by… Monkey–I hadn’t seen anything yet. Since you’ve been born, days and weeks and months and years have been going by in a blink. One minute you’re snuggled up in my arms, the next you’re scaling the big kids’ slide. How did this all happen?

I love you, Jude.

Love,
Mama

You’re growing up too fast. Please slow down.

These past two months have been really amazing, Jude. Every day I find myself wishing I had a little notebook and pen on hand to make note of the new things you’re doing and saying.

You eat with regular-sized forks and spoons. You’ve been doing this for a while, but it was just a week or two ago that it really struck me. If Papa or I forget to give you a napkin, you ask for one, and then you use it of your own accord. Somehow you’ve figured out how to eat your soup, cereal, and oatmeal over the bowl, and if you happen to make a mess, you promptly tell us “I spill!” so we can clean it up. Immediately.

You’ve discovered the joy of playing in the snow. Grandma Rose sent you a wooden sled as a surprise (the surprise is, we live in Chicago! It’s flat here!), and a few weeks before Christmas, we got to take it out for a spin. That day, Papa and I took turns pulling you all around the (very flat) park. You call it your “plane” and you ask to take it out even when the ground is dry.

I would be neglectful if I didn’t mention how your use of the English language is growing by leaps and bounds these days. You’re speaking in full (or nearly fully) sentences. You sing along to Weezer and the Alkaline Trio. Before bed we sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star or O Christmas Tree! (even though Christmas is over). You wouldn’t believe the amount of joy Papa and I feel whenever we hear you sing.

Since Christmas you’ve become a one-man-band. During the early morning hours, you like to strum your guitar or play your harmonica or sing. Once 9am rolls around and your drumsticks wake up, it’s a constant clanging of sticks together and the shouts of “One, Two, Three, Four!” coming from your lips. Papa and I love listening to you make music, and luckily, none of the neighbors have complained!

Sometime over the past two months you’ve cut way back on nursing… so far, in fact, that I can probably say that you’ve self-weaned and are done. So! Instead of nursing to sleep, during Advent we adopted a new bedtime routine. Each night we lit the candle(s) on our Advent wreath and read a prayer from the Celtic Daily Prayer book, got changed into jammies, brushed your teeth, and snuggled down into bed to listen to Papa read a story. After that you and I would lie down to talk about our day and go to sleep. We’re still following that same routine, though we’ve replaced the Advent wreath with a simple candle from Grandma Rhonda.

Recently, I spent three days in the hospital. Away from you. Oh, Monkey. I know it sounds melodramatic, but JesusChristAlmighty I missed you. I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to be admitted, but I had no choice–I couldn’t walk. While I was at the hospital, your new friend Erin helped you make a card for me. I was so excited to get it. I put it on my bedside table and looked at it whenever I felt sad. When I got home on Tuesday night, you were so happy! You gave me some great (and gentle) hugs and showed me the paintings you had created with our friend Sarah. Maybe I’m making it up Jude, but you seem to have grown so much in those three days we were apart. You seem to be speaking so much more clearly now than you were before I went away. We’re having real conversations… you’re able to tell me about all the things you did and all the toys you played with during the day. Could all of that really have happened over a three-day span? And if so, why did it happen during the three days we were apart?

Witnessing how much you’ve grown over the past two months has me thinking about what life with you will be like tomorrow, next week, next month… I feel so very ready for you to grow up and so very sad that there’s no avoiding it. Sometimes I look at you and wonder where my baby boy has gone. Other times I get caught up in a daydream of what you might be like when you get older. I love you, Jude.

Love,
Mama

Not only have you turned two and a half, but by the time I get around to publishing this post, you’ll be well on your way to (Oh. My. God.) being three years old. Dear Lord. I don’t remember signing up for this.

In late October, we celebrated Halloween with you for the first time since you were born. You dressed up as Remy (“Little Chef”) from Ratatouille and spent the evening at a Halloween block party that took place about two blocks from our house. Though your costume was simple, I wasn’t sure that you’d keep it on. I shouldn’t have worried; you loved wearing your apron and chef’s hat, and you loved getting whiskers and a little pink nose painted on your face as well. We didn’t go door-to-door to trick or treat this year, but since you don’t eat candy (and since Papa and I don’t need to eat any candy), I don’t think it was a big loss. Next year you’ll get the full experience. Promise.

Chicago can’t seem to decide if it’s in the end of Spring, the middle of Fall, or the beginning of Winter. Day-to-day temps have been unpredictable over the last month. Some days we stay cuddled up inside under blankets and watching movies; other days we’re outside from sunup to sundown in nothing more than jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Despite the wacky weather patterns and the cold temperatures, I’ve been doing my best to get us outside for at least a few minutes each day. You have an overwhelming amount of energy these days, and getting you outside is really the only way I’ve come up with to let you work it all out.

I’m not sure exactly when it began, but you’ve starting singing your ABCs sometime in the not too distant past. “L M N O P” trips you up a bit, but otherwise, you’re (nearly!) spot-on. Recently, while traveling on the El, you led an ABC sing-along. Two boys who were quite a few years older than you joined in. Papa and I smiled and their parents laughed. I’m not sure how the other passengers felt about the impromptu performance, but I thought it was wonderful!

Lately I’ve noticed that we have things that resemble actual conversations. I can’t say they’re very deep or philosophical, but you’ve gone from supplying me with one or two words to speaking in close to full sentences. You seem to understand what I’m saying more often than not. We’re making more decisions together. It’s really wonderful. Really.

Thanksgiving just passed and we’ve moved on to the season of Advent. Christmas is (as of today) twenty-five days away. I love this time of year, Jude, and I love that you’ll actually be able to really enjoy some of it this year. I love the sights and the smells and the feelings of Christmas. I love cooking and baking and celebrating this wonderful time of year with our family and friends. I can’t wait to watch you bask in magic of it all.

Love,
Mama

You have had quite an exciting month–new toys and new friends and a new weekly breakfast date. We’ve all been busy, busy, busy, but you really seem to be enjoying every minute of life.

Papa and I went on a bit of a shopping spree for you earlier in the month, and our house is a bit more cluttered because of it! The weather has been up and down… cool for a few weeks and then warm for a day or two. We’ve been spending as much time as possible outdoors and have been making the best of the days we need to spend indoors. When we’re out at the park, you like me to chase you, so I do. You run and I follow behind singing, “I’m gonna get you! I’m gonna get you!” and you giggle. After I catch you once or twice, we switch, and you become the chaser and I the chase-ee. You love to run after me, arms outstretched and yelling, “I get chou! I get chou!” You inevitably catch me, and then we switch roles again. You can play this game for HOURS. I can play it for MINUTES before running out of breath.

A week or two ago, you and I were at the playground on one of the random 70-degree’d days we’ve had recently. Out of no where, you packed up our belongings into our park bag, handed it to me, took me by the hand, and said “Bagel.” You then proceeded to lead me to Charmers Cafe where I ordered you the desired bagel and an apple cider.

This past month, your Papa and I decided to invest in a new camera-a Nikon D90 Digital SLR. It is quite the fancy camera, and you’re my favorite subject to shoot. On any given day, I shoot upwards of 300 photos of you. You’re so handsome and so photogenic–it’s hard to hold my trigger finger back!

Thursdays are your favorite day of the week these days because on Thursday mornings, we having a standing breakfast date with some friends of ours. When you wake up on Thursday mornings, we tell you that we need to hurry and get ready so that we can meet our friends for breakfast. Once you process that information, you spend the remainder of our time at home (and our time traveling to the diner) exclaiming “FRIENDS!” AND “CAKE!” (“Cake” = “Pancake,” in case anyone is wondering.) You like to bring your bucket of Play-Doh or your camera with us when we go out for breakfast. You love taking table-top pictures of our friends’ stomach, and you love it when they indulge your desire for them to create Play-Doh cats for you.

For the most part, the past month has been on the easy side of the spectrum for you and me. I’m doing my best to undo my preconceived notions about parenting and I’m trying really, really hard to be a more level-headed and even-tempered mom for you. You’re understanding more, talking more, singing more, laughing more, reading more, jumping more, etc. You’re growing up. And, while I hate to admit it, this is a good thing. I love that we’re able to do more things together… that you have some sort of direction in mind when we play with your Play-Doh. You request certain toys (ball pit, rice, paint) and certain movies (for instance, Ratatouille at least twice a day) and certain food (bagels. also, pizza). You tell me whether you want to wear your jeans or your bibs, a hoodie or a coat. You know what “tired” and “hungry” feel like, and you have no trouble telling me when those adjectives applies to your state of being.

I loved you as a baby, Monkey. I loved holding you and snuggling with you and being with you all the time. Now, I love you as a toddler. I love playing with you and reading to you and dancing and singing with you. I still love it when you allow me to hold you and snuggle with you, but our relationship has moved past those simple forms of affection. We can talk to each other (a bit, at least) now. You can make your desires known to me in no uncertain terms. There’s a real rhythm to our days, and I love it. I am grateful for the time we get to spend together. I love being with you.

Love,
mama

For me, the biggest problem I have with being a stay at home mom is that I never really know what day it is. Monday or Tuesday? The fifth or the sixth of the month? Days and weeks fly by in rapid succession, and I never seem to be able to fully ground myself. All that’s to say, this letter is late, and it would be even later if your great-grandpa hadn’t made me privy to what day of the month we were on.

So. Here we are. This past month was really exciting for all of us. Your first cousin, Gavin, was born near the middle of August, and early in September we drove to Springfield to meet him and to visit with your Aunt Erin and Uncle Grant. Papa and I thought you would be all over your new cousin, but surprisingly, you paid him little attention (though you did give him two soft kisses before we headed home). While we were visiting, we played at a few neat parks, and your aunt and uncle showered you with attention. The hotel we stayed at had an indoor swimming pool, so you and Papa got in a much-desired, last-of-the-season swim, as well.

I’m not sure exactly when you started, but recently I’ve noticed you singing along with all the VeggieTales songs you love so much. It’s really awesome to hear you and really amazing to witness that brain of yours working. Your memory is so good that you often speak lines from your favorite movies before the characters in the films can get the words out of their animated mouths. Also, you dance. Thanks to the Fox series Glee, you dance to that Beyonce song “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It).” It’s really, really hilarious, and I love watching you when you get in that dancin’ mood.

We’ve recently started up our weekly trips to the library after having taking a bit of time off. The last time we went, we picked out a few really, really fantastic books: What Happens on Wednesdays, If You Give a Moose a Muffin, Duck for President, Imagine Harry, and So, What’s It Like to Be a Cat? Much of the time, you’d rather page through the books on your own than have me read them to you. Sometimes, however, you cuddle up on the couch with me, pull a blanket up over you, and let me read story after story out loud. You like to name the objects you recognize on each page and get very excited when you notice something new.

You’re in this funny kind of stage right now. You’re constantly asking for help at the playground, even to perform the simplest tasks-like climbing the step to the slide or hoisting yourself into the tunnel. You’ve been doing these things on your own for months and months. I think you just like the attention. These days, you walk without holding my hand, except for when we cross the street or alleyways. You like to lag behind and then RUN to catch up with me. Sometimes walking two blocks to the nearest cafe wears me out, but most of the time I just enjoy how in awe you are of everything around you.

We’ve got big plans for the upcoming months, Monkey… apples and pumpkins and costumes and puzzles and art projects and music and movies and popcorn. Autumn is my favorite season, and I can’t wait to share another one with you.

Love,
Mama

This letter to you is late. Three days late, to be exact. While I would like to say that I simply haven’t had time to write over the past few days, the truth is that the past few days have been miserable for you and me. I’ve been burnt out that I thought I’d be doing you a real disservice to write to you while I was feeling so low. Yesterday and today have been better, so I decided to sit down with a(nother) cup of coffee and give this writing thing a go.

You’re officially two and a quarter years old. Some days I look at you and can’t believe how big you are and how old you look. Papa and I can’t leave breakables near the edge of the kitchen counter anymore; your reach is too great. For a while I thought that leaving the bottom two shelves of the bookshelves free would be enough. Then you showed me just how wrong I was by ripping the cover off of one of Papa’s books. Now you have three shelves dedicated to your books. For some reason, you don’t rip those.

People keep saying that summer has been on the cool side, here in Chicago. I don’t agree. We’ve had some really beautiful (and HOT) days this year. Though, to be fair, on Friday I had to dress you in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Really though, Friday was the exception. And so was Saturday. But besides those two days, we’ve been enjoying some really great weather. We’ve recently started visiting a playground a few blocks away from us. That park has been recently renovated and has a new play structure and a rubberized ground. You love playing at that park, and I love taking you there because you don’t get nearly as dirty as you do if we go to Touhy Park.

It seems redundant to say that your vocabulary is growing, as is your understanding of the spoken word. Likewise, I feel like every month I point a new feat of athleticism you’ve performed. It’s normal, I suppose, that you keep growing and learning, but I’m still amazed by it. Also, your hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail. That amazes me as well.

I hope that our next month together is more enjoyable than these past few days have been. I also hope that the rest of your two-year molars come in quickly because I suspect they’re a large contributing factor to your crankiness. Whatever happens though, Monkey, try to remember that I love you. Even when I get frustrated and angry, I love you. Even when you’re whining and crying and screaming, I love you. Nothing could ever change that fact.

Love,
Mama

I’ve been horrible about updating this blog lately. I have no real excuse. I’ve simply been tired. I’ve been napping when you nap, and occasionally using your down time to catch up on cleaning. (Okay, that happened once. Who’s counting?!?!) We also right in the middle of summer, and you just go, go, go hour after hour, day after day. You run circles around me, literally. Simply put, you tired me out, Jude; but I’m not complaining.

Summertime suits you well. We spend our mornings visiting local playgrounds or, if Papa’s home, playing at the beach. Sometimes we cap off playtime with a trip to Charmer’s for a bagel with veggie cream cheese. After nap time we usually play indoors; you love to finger paint and draw, dance and listen to music. If the weather is crummy, or if you’re not feeling well, I make popcorn for us to share, and we snuggle up in bed together and watch The Incredibles.

Your favorite books right now are Knuffle Bunny by Mo Willems, The Peace Book by Todd Parr, and Kitten’s First Full Moon by Kevin Henkes.You love ‘reading’ these books on your own, and you love describing what you see on each page while flipping through the books with Papa or me. You’ve (thankfully) gotten through your obsession with The Incredible Singing Christmas Tree, and have moved on to requesting Agony & Irony by the Alkaline Trio. How grateful I am for this progression, I’ll never be able to adequately put into words. Thank you, Jude. Thank you.

Earlier this month, your Aunt Erin and Uncle Grant came to Chicago and stayed for a week. We met up with them a few times during their vacation and visited Shedd Aquarium with them. That same week, you, Papa, and I stayed at the Belden-Stratford Hotel for a night. We had a great time there, living the high life, and were reluctant to leave. This past month we also purchased a child seat for my bike so that you and I could go for rides together. Sadly, I don’t have much biking skill and was unable to balance you, the seat, and the bike well enough to take you on any rides. BUT! not to worry, sweet boy. Yesterday we returned the seat and ordered a bike trailer for you to ride in. By this time next week (hopefully sooner!), you and I will be cruising all around Rogers Park in style.

In other, pointy-er news, your second set of molars are on their way in. So far, I’ve spotted those sharp little buggers on each side of your bottom row of teeth. You’re dealing with them fairly well, though Papa and I have both noticed you chewing on your had a lot lately. Also, there’s the crankiness, but who’s to say that’s from the teeth? It could stem from your refusal to go to bed before 10 the other night, or your subsequent refusal to nap for more than sixty minutes the following afternoon. Thankfully, you went to bed at a decent time this evening, so tomorrow, if the crankiness ensues, we should know what it is we’re dealing with.

And on that note, Monkey, I think I’ll sign off and join you in bed. The weather is supposed to be nice again tomorrow, and we have an early playdate scheduled with your girlfriend in Lincoln Park. Sleep tight, Jude. Thanks for another great month.

Love,
Mama

Your Papa has begged me to stop calculating your age in months. He thinks that now that you’ve turned 2 years old, I should simply say “He’s two,” when the question is asked. But, as I’m sure you’ve picked up by now, Mama loves to drive Papa crazy, so 25 months it is!

Your 25-month birthday came at the end of nine days of non-stop one-on-one time with yours truly. Papa had to lead a mission trip to New Orleans, which meant that you and I were left in each other’s care for more than a week. Eight out of those nine days were absolutely wonderful. We did a lot of fun stuff–played at the park, splashed around at Millennium Park’s Crown Fountain, enjoyed local produce at Chicago’s Green City Market… the list goes on and on.

You’ve recently started counting to ten without prompting and without encouragement. You like to count, “One, two, THREE!” and JUMP while walking with me around the neighborhood. Your affinity for VeggieTales and Silly Song with Larry has only gotten stronger over the past 30 days or so. Occasionally, after having listened to “Larry Radio” for three or four hours straight, I fantasize about sticking screwdrivers in my ears. Mostly though, I just love watching you dance and listening to you sing along to all your favorite songs.

I’ve been really grateful for your help around the house lately. You love to help me by hoisting the dirty laundry UP and into the washer and you follow me around with the Swiffer broom and take care of everything I miss with the regular broom. You haven’t quite figured out that emptying the contents of your snack cup onto the floor doesn’t really help me, but I’m sure you’ll get there. Sooner or later.

You’re going through spurts of playing by yourself more and more. You like to “read” through your books after Papa or I read them to you. Recently, you’ve become interested in painting and other arts and crafts type things, and with your new-found creativity, you made Papa a really great piece of art for Father’s Day. At night, you tell Papa and I that you want to sleep (“seep”), and then you promptly get into bed and lay your head down on my pillow. And, speaking of sleep, you’ve been doing that like a champ lately (*knocks wood*). For that, I thank you.

Every day is a new adventure with you, Jude. Your understanding, your athleticism, and your ability to communicate have increased so much over the past month that I’m left in awe of you at every turn. I love you, Monkey, and I’m on the edge of my seat waiting to see the next amazing thing you do.

Love,
Mama

Well, Monkey–we made it! Two years of living and loving and laughing (interspersed with a touch of whining, crying, and screaming–but I’m not too concerned with remembering those times) are in the books. In the 24 months that you’ve been on the outside, I’ve barely ever left your side. We’ve woken up together and gone to sleep together; read together and played together; made messes together and cleaned together. You’ve made my life absolutely wonderful.

Last week we traveled to Pennsylvania to visit family and friends. Most mornings we played with Grandma Rose and Great-Grandpa. We ate breakfast at Abe’s a few times and played at Nay Aug park. You got to meet Jessica, a friend of mine from high school, and your Uncle Richie drove up from Philly to visit with you as well. We stayed with Uncle Scott and Aunt Demi for the duration of our trip, and you had so, SO much fun playing with Nolan, Eli, and Luke (and Chloe, their dog!). On Saturday evening, we prayed and played with the Peacemeal community (and your Uncle Doug). You really enjoyed yourself last week…so did Papa and I.

The cold weather has (finally!) broken here in Chicago *knocks wood.* This new development has made our days both easier and tougher for the both of us. On the one hand, we get to play outside! A lot! On the other hand, being outside all day makes it hard for me to get any cooking or cleaning done, and that has made our evenings a bit more hectic than I would like.

For your birthday, Papa and I got you a real toddler-sized acoustic guitar. You’ve been “strumming” your broom and push toy for a while now, so Papa and I though you might enjoy a real instrument. As soon as you saw the box, you started saying “a-tar! a-tar!” You quickly became accustomed to strumming the guitar strings, and in a matter of minutes, Papa had rigged one of his guitar straps to fit you! You had a great time tonight, rocking out and dancing. Your face radiated joy… I think you like your birthday gift.

Tomorrow we move into the third year of your life. I’m excited to see what lies ahead, but at the same time am sad that you’re growing up so very quickly. Sleep well tonight, little two-year-old. Rest knowing that Mama and Papa love you.

Love,
Mama