dear baby,
over the past 7½ minutes (or so) you’ve…
- sprouted four new pearlies…
- learned to clap those two gloriously chubba-fingered fists…
- mastered getting up onto and down off of that cutie caboose…
- started synchronizing…one hand…one knee…one hand…crawling…
- hoisted yourself up onto those delicious “little” drumsticks…
- and decided which ivy league you want to attend come fall…
i don’t think you’re obeying me…
very sincerely,
me (your spinnin’-headed mama)
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