Sweet Love.

You’re eight months old.

I’ll take your photo when we’re in LA, though. We’ll do some sort of iconic shot with palm trees in the background. I wish your father had an Italian suit, a slim-looking one. He wears these giant suits from the nineties, it looks like, with huge shoulder pads. And unfortunately he paid a lot of money for them (as one does) and bought them in Germany, so he’s hesitant to ever stop wearing them. And, if he read this, he’d say, “stop being mean.” I was just envisioning an iconic shot with the two of you, dressed up.

You’re almost crawling. You’re basically there. You can do “a crawl,” and then you lie flat on your stomach. Like, you just lack the strength and the knowledge that you can forge ahead. You’re ALMOST THERE! And now we really can’t leave you on the bed unattended.

Last night, while your dad was giving you a bath, I called to you from the laundry room and you saw me and got so excited that your whole body wiggled and you slapped your dad’s leg with your hands. And your whole face was a big smile. And then we did it again, then again. It was the cutest thing ever. As I’m usually with you, holding you, etc., I don’t get to see you often from a distance. See how little you are. Enjoy your extreme adorableness.

I’m so excited about us going to LA. Yes, sad about leaving Portland as Portland is a status-symbol. But in LA it’s WARM. We went on a walk yesterday, as it’s warm here, too, now, and I thought “we can do this every day. We’ll walk my running route. Then, eventually, I’ll start running it, and get back into the swing of things,” and then your dad said that we’re expecting more RAIN. We broke all records in terms of rain this year. Since the beginning of time (since they began recording rainfall around here).

Oh, and you now have seven teeth. Three on the bottom, four up top. I think it means you’re a genius in Waldorf terms (that’s back molars and just means when you’re ready to begin kindergarten, actually). But, genius. Genius? Genius. Of course. 

I love you, little man.

  • Your Mama

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