Dear S. and L.

Originally written: 8/7/2005

It's Sunday night and you two are sleeping in your respective beds. Of course, if your father keeps making such a racket, it's going to wake L. the rest of the way...

This has been a red letter weekend on 2 accounts. S., on Saturday night you woke yourself up, went to the potty, washed your hands and climbed back into bed ALL BY YOURSELF! you didn't quite remember to put your pajama bottoms back on, but hey, you remembered to wash your hands! Not bad for only 3 years old. L., this weekend you caught your balance. I can sit you on the floor completely unsupported and you don't tip over. Unfortunately, you haven't figured out how to go from sitting to lying down unassisted, but I know it won't be long now before you're crawling and cruising and then walking.

I feel privileged and supremely blessed to be your mother. S., I look forward to tomorrow when it is my turn to be loved by you. For some reason you've begun withholding affection. You told Aunt Toot you didn't have any kisses for her and you told me you just didn't love me today (but you promised you'd love me tomorrow). As you grow, your thought processes become more and more complex. Today I'm awed by your understanding the difference between 'today' and 'tomorrow.' Who know how you'll surprise me next.

My beautiful little L. You are busy learning all the 'rules' of this world. I watch you look at something (usually a toy or my glasses), assess the distance your chubby little fingers can reach, and stre-e-e-e-e-e-tch out to see if you can reach that object. When you can, you cheerfully snatch up the coveted object and stuff it in your mouth (I may forget what it is like to look through un-smudged glasses). When you can't quite reach, you grunt and strain and roll back and forth never giving up until the object is in your grasp. I admire that kind of determination in a baby not quite 6 months old.

It is past time I went to sleep.

I love you both more than I can say.

Mommy