Letters to Hootoo - STOP IT.

You are seriously adorable. It’s all just too much. We’re off living life together (giggles, walks, naps) so I haven’t written much lately. In brief, you’re cute.
You have this new laugh now that sounds like a sinister chuckle. It’s hilarious.
You snuggle hard in my neck. Keep that up.
You recognize and remember. Morning grins at Mama. Big smiles for Dad.
You love Adam and Annie, and Mama is thankful for them.
You’ve mastered rolling over. Crawling will be a breeze.
You smoosh Amma’s face with your hands and press your face to hers. She loves that.
You’re easy, happy and healthy. That will never change. I will see to it.

The Times

I’m not quite sure what’s happening to me. I used to be pretty badass.

It’s all changed. The millennium mohawk is growing out. My gauges are shrinking. I shove photos of some baby in the faces of strangers. I save recipes and even make them happen. I attend playgroups. I SUBSCRIBE TO DAILY CRAFT EMAILS FROM MARTHA STEWART. I walk around in public cooing and repeating high pitched sounds to a small, smiling human strapped to my chest.

On the other hand, it’s still the same old me. I enjoy a good swear word. I stay up late. I drink too much coffee. I scold the driver who has left their dog alone in the car on a hot day. It’s nice to feel progressive in my own way; when a friend called me a lactivist this week I wanted to smother them in a hug of gratitude. Instead we gushed over my endless photostream of a certain number one little man. He happens to be the cutest, brightest baby in the history of the world, you know — and I’ve heard his Mom has still got it going on.