Gaius and Mommy 1:1

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Gaius, dear, let's face it. You're not a baby anymore.

In a matter of weeks you have turned from a warm cuddly huggy bear, albeit with sneak-attack octopus arms, into a highly opinionated sovereign.

I'm talking about that haughty stance of yours when I'm holding you in my arms and you start showing me which way to go next. You don't point. I've understood by now that pointing is a tool of the uneducated masses, and you are far above that.
You majestically raise your right arm, palm upheld to the sky as if saying: "Thus spreads my domain, and I shall travel to it in your arms. Presently."

I'm talking about your dignified walk in the evenings, when we try to put your footie pajamas on. The sleeves make it onto your arms, then you immediately take off to check what Mara is doing in her room, the pajama's footies dragging gently behind you like a trailing royal cape.
Hail, Gaius.

Now, drop that diaper and start making your way to bed. It's time to go night-night.

Also, I fully expect you to start pulling your weight around here. Raising two little kids is hard, so we're counting on you guys to do all the hard work.

Love,
Mom.


P.S.: I will miss all of these, and everything else you do, so much. And I will also miss everything you are about to do, every step of the way. Discovering the little person you are growing into is an exquisite journey and Greg, Mara and I are blessed to be a part of it. Thank you for being with us.

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