23 Months

Dear Goose,

Happy Almost Two, Kissy Face. My favorite thing about you now is that you like to give kisses. And since I know firsthand that there are other, much more dangerous, things you could do with your mouth, I am all in favor of unlimited besos.

You also like blocks:

And boots:

And diggers (behold, Larry, the front-end loader, whom you call "Deeeeeg")

And red striped shirts.

You and Your Dad are up north for a family reunion and I am down here, all lonely and pitiful and so bored I've been to the mall twice. Please Lord do not let Your Dad find the credit card statement. It was fun for the first day, but now I'm antsy. I miss you and I miss Your Dad too.

When I dropped y'all off at the airport, you said, "Bye Mama" and sauntered off toward the automatic doors, nearly crashing into a flight attendant because you were walking forward but looking backward waving at me and simultaneously eyeing a "Beeeeg Bus." Then you stopped, turned, and ran towards me, arms open, for one last hug and kiss. Twenty minutes later, they sent out a team of janitors to clean up the mess on the sidewalk that was really me, melted into the concrete beside the DROP OFF ONLY ZONE, door open, car running ... a puddle with wavy reddish hair on top, right there in front of the Midwest Express curbside check-in.

When I talk to Your Dad each day, I hear you in the background talking to various relatives. Today I heard you say, "Hi Debs." Yesterday while we were having a phone conversation, Your Dad said, "Don't bite Nana!" and then I heard you say, "Ha ha ha -- a big ole BITE!" That's not funny, but of course I have to marvel at your use of colloquialism.

Your Dad says that you have been wowing the Beckers with your counting (to twelve!?!) and sleeping in a Big Boy Bed. He also told me the story about how you got up at 6 a.m., climbed into his bed, and went back to sleep for a couple hours. I am absolutely GREEN with envy about all that snuggling and me here with nothing but a credit card bill to show for my last two days. It makes me want to get rid of your crib just so you'll get up and come into our bedroom and get in the Beeg Bed. But then again I do like to sleep.

I feel like when I see you tomorrow night you'll be so different: An expert in family reunions, airline travel with only one parent, and big boy bed sleeping. And all I've done is make friends with a Mastercard. I really need to get some hobbies.

Happy 23, Little Man. Even when you're 2300 months I'll still call you my Snickerdoodlecoochycoodle.

Love,

Mama