Dear 3 month old,
When you’re all grown up, I think its only fair that you know what I was thinking all of those times I rocked/bounced/smiled/played/changed/fed/loved you. Gear up, it’s not a short list.
Listen up, kid. You cry, what seems to me to be, way, way too much. Why? What could possibly be wrong? Seriously. I know for a fact that I’ve met all of your demands. Why must you ransom my silence?
Why aren’t you tired? I’m always tired. Like right now, I’m tired, but you’re just staring at me. Are you waiting for a formal invite? Because I know someone with a letterpress…
Did you seriously just wait for me to change your diaper to poop? That is no way to make friends, pal.
Let go of my hair. You barely hold your head up but I can hardly pry open your miniature hulk-grip. What are you going to do with all that hair now that you have it? Didn’t really think that one through, did you?
Of course I love you, but I think maybe we should start seeing other people?
Trying to dress you is like trying to dress a robot. Seriously, loosen up a bit. Unbend an elbow every now and then.
I feed you from an appendage. Have a little respect and stop trying to look behind you. Nevermind, I’ll just add this to my list of irreparable damage.
Oh man, remember that one day when I thought that I wasn’t going to do any laundry? Ha! What a ride!
I was going to try to do the things on this To Do list today, but you might be on to something with all of this, “hold me or else” business.
I’m pretty sure I’ve gained weight in my knees. You did this to me.
I have to say though, despite it all…you are so dang cute I could just slap my momma. But I won’t. Because I recognize and appreciate her sacrifices for me. #justsayin