Dear Rowan,
Whoa kid, it’s been a month. Actually it’s been a couple of weeks, but you get the idea.
We’re jumping back in the no-dairy bandwagon (thank goodness I’m accustomed to a macadamia or oat milk latte) because you’ve been a fussy little bugger who doesn’t know what they want. One night you’re all about the bottle, next night you only want mommy.
But glory hallelujah! You took TWO naps in the car going and coming from church. Kid you might be going places, literally.
Bro and puppies are still your fave, as is bath time although you’re much splashier now. You’ve also noticed the moving picture box and heaven help us if we’re trying to feed you and Star Wars is on the screen (it’s your brother’s latest obsession so there’s a high possibility you’re Yoda for Boo at the Zoo this year, it’s undecided).
And don’t tell the doctor, but we let you “eat” bananas before you check-up this mouth. Ok, you squished the stuff on the tray and licked my fingers.
People still go nuts over your hair, and how tiny you are, yet you’re rocking 6 month onesies and almost to the highest position for your car seat harness.
You’re still the biggest chatterbox, we swear you’ll be talking when you’re one. And you flip flop all over the place, I already can’t trust you to stay on your play mat while I grab a bagel.
And if you could give me back my brain cells, that’d be great. I know you held on to some while you were in my belly, but I think you took them with you when you came out.
Thanks,
Mum
