My dear dear boy,
I don’t get why you love me. You love me. Like a loony little bird.
You’ve gone through this stranger anxiety-esque phase in which nobody is good enough but me. I don’t understand it. I don’t know why you love me so. I feel so flawed. But you don’t see it. You don’t dwell. You just love me.
I love you back.
Now I need you to know that you hopefully have plenty of time in your life to do all of the things you want. You don’t need to do them all at once. But you do try. You try. I’ve seen you try to cruise with toys in both of your hands. You’ve crawled across the floor with a paper in your hand to give me. You are a cute little nubbit.
Thanks for getting over that stranger anxiety thing a bit. Now you look for mama. After you nurse in the morning, you turn and look for her. When you find her, you show her your tongue, then burst into giggles.
Enough blogging for me. I need to go get you and kiss your belly.