dear pratt,
my favorite time with you is early in the morning. when i go in to get you from bed, you're always laying down, on your back...sucking your two middle fingers. when you see me, you immediately roll over on your belly and push your way up to sitting, and then immediately reach for the side of the crib so you can stand.
i say, "good morning!" in the most exaggerated voice i can muster that early (around 7...it's early...trust me)...and you smile. your eyes are always swollen. like you sleep really, really hard. i do the same thing. and your hair always looks like jack nicholson. fuzzy and wild. a lot like your poppy.
you put your arm around my neck and hold on as tight as you can while we walk down the stairs. we make a bottle and then sit on the couch together. i hold you as tight as you will allow. and constantly kiss the top of your head.
you still smell like johnson and johnson's bedtime bath...even 12 hours later. i bet i kiss the top of your head a million times a day.
after you've finished your bottle...well, you never really finish it...more like, after you've had about 5 ounces, you're ready to start the day.
you will push your bottle out of your mouth and point at the tv...the fireplace, the dog, the fan...anything and you'll tell me what it is. in your own...or maybe our own special language.
from there, you want down. you want to be independent.
it's at this point i realize how short life is. how fast you're growing. how i won't make it through your birthday party without crying. how i won't ever make it to your first day of kindergarten. i should just veto that now. i should just let your daddy do that. because i'll be that weirdo mom who sits outside the classroom door and just looks in and cries.
you love taking everything off trays, everything out of baskets, etc. if something has accumulated junk, you're the one who comes along and rips it all off and tosses it to the floor.
daddy has been working so hard on hanging drapes for me. and you LOVE his toolbox. last night, you took everything out of it.
we love you more than you will know. until you have a child of your own. and then you'll understand.
until then...just know we love you oodles and oodles.
and we always will.
no.matter.what.
love, mom.
2 comments:
If its any consolation, I teared up when I read the word "birthday" too. I know its so much closer for you guys - but I already can't think about it. It's already here too soon. And then you had to go and mention the K-word. Oh Hannah. We are so lucky to have these babies. I'm so glad that you are enjoying all of these moments. And, I'll say for the millionth time, Pratt is so lucky to have you as a mom. Truly truly.
That picture of Pratt looking at the remote... hil.arious! It is sad watching them grow up, but it's exciting too! Fun, new, amazing things happen every.single.day! You'll be amazed at how smart he is and what all he will be able to do! We are constantly saying "did you teach him that, how did he know that?!" and then, when he starts talking, you'll go in his room in the mornings and he'll say "Hi Momma!" The BEST thing EVER!!! :)
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