Dear Reese,
One of your teachers says to me at pickup, “She’s so much fun!”
You are so much fun. Before bed, you’re extra giggly and you crawl over the guest bed and throw your head into the pillows, laughing. I laugh too.
I have a thought while I’m pulling out a toy to keep you occupied while I clean up after dinner: I’ll have no idea what your earliest memory will be until you tell me, years later. It could be right now, you crawling across the floor. Maybe it’ll be how you said “Mama” so clearly while I held you that I swear you meant it.
I have this vague memory of being in my mom’s arms and looking at one of our cats. In my head, I’ve tied it to when I said my first word (kitty-cat), but memory is funny. Maybe you’ll remember all the times I sang “Green Canoe” to you while pushing you on the swing. Or that look of panic, I try to mask every time you catch up to the cat and pull.
Merlin continues to be very patient.
Love,
Mama