Little Man, Buddy, Bubba, The Bubs. You’re turning three tomorrow. You always want to pedal pedal pedal, trying to keep up.
Now you can go fast. Fast like a racecar, Little Man. Pedal pedal pedal. Keep up, slow down. Keep your eyes on the road. Keep your ears perked. Wait for me, Little Man. I’m still folding your baby clothes.
yesterday my two-year old was a baby. Her hair grew a little, her stomach shrank a little, she went from calling me “da,” to calling me “neal” and then laughing hysterically…
It seems like every day that I put another pair of pants in our clothes box in the attic. Frankly, I miss my baby.
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