Dear Reese,
You watch two teenagers at the beach throw a football. It’s the most entranced I’ve seen you be by anything in a while. You watch them like I’ve turned on your favorite show (and as we muscle through little to no screentime for another year, you do not have a favorite show yet).
You become an explorer at the beach, wandering in this and that direction away from our little basecamp. It’s a quiet afternoon as most people leave the county after the long weekend, so there’s plenty of open sand for you to explore. You crawl up the concrete steps, and I hold your hands while you practice walking on the pavement.
MorMor bought you a new watermelon print swimsuit today, and we lather your exposed skin up with sunscreen. You are not the biggest fan of hats, so MorMor and I wear our hats too to try to show you it’s normal. You are so fair-skinned, we worry about you burning easily.
It feels like summer. That’s how it always seems to be in Door County: winter, winter, winter, a week of spring, summer. This will be your second summer, but I can’t wait for you to actually experience this one. Hopefully, we’ll have lots more afternoons like today in our future.
Love,
Mama