Dear Maly,
You turned 14-months-old a week and a half ago. I’m sorry this letter to you is late. We were on vacation in San Diego last week visiting your aunts, uncles and cousins.
I’m going to keep this particular letter to you short as I will have another one for you in the next couple weeks. Your major milestones for this past month were: 1) You’ve boycotted putting anything green into your mouth that isn’t dashed with Lawry’s Seasoned Salt or drenched in ranch dressing. 2) You don’t like HEB’s Hill Country Fair ice cream. 3) Your poop still makes me gag despite my ever-growing, exponential love for you and everything that is non-poop-related. 4) Your first top tooth poked through. 5) You suffered from a minor bout with Roseola. 6) You fell onto your face and busted your lip which made your mouth swell enough to the point where I suffered from a day-long anxiety attack that left me gasping for air, and 7) You’ve grown up and out, learned to say “eye” and point when we ask you “where’s Daddy’s eye?”; “Mama” when we ask “where’s Mama?”; “Dada” when we ask, “where’s Daddy?”; “Burr” when we ask, “where’s the bird?”; “Baaa” when we ask, “where’s the ball?” and, on rare and beloved occasion, when I say, “give Daddy a kiss”, you pucker up, lean forward and give me a kiss.
You’ve become so interactive and responsive. You’re such a precious gift. I anxiously look forward to you growing and learning new things but, in the same breath, I want you to stay where you are — as my perfect little baby girl.
I love you, Sugar.
Love,
Daddy