Dear Reese,
We spend Saturday with MorMor and Cappi. You practice walking. You sign for food. You sign ‘all done’. You sign ‘more’. You grab your hat and your shoes when you want to go outside.
We replace the little booster seat with the big high chair and scoot it right up to the table so you can eat off it (instead of your tray) at meals with us. You get frustrated when you cannot walk on your own, or when I pull you away from dangerous places. Or places with spiders. You laugh and smile when we pull you around the cottage on a towel after dinner.
At the beach, you hold our hand and walk and walk and try to walk straight into the lake. You try to get into the rental kayaks. We find two abandoned beach toys and show you how to make little castle towers. You help pat the wet sand down in the cup. When we leave, you are wet and sandy, and so am I. You do not like getting in your carseat, but you do like your Spider-Man sippy cup. And your Baby Doll that Nana gave you for Christmas. We bring it everywhere today.
Love,
Mama