You are my little puppy dog: panting loud and heavy as you navigate fast on all fours, tongue hanging out way past your lips, little tail wagging behind you. You even love belly rubs.
You sit in the buggy at the grocery store and kick your feet and sing through the aisles. You make sweet eyes at all the ladies and talk to all the other babies. You have a way with getting a smile out of even the grumpiest cashier. I hope you can do this for your whole life. It’s important and it makes me proud.You love dinnertime. In just a diaper, you sit in your highchair as if you are king. I spoon feed you a medley of vegetables. Sometimes I sing you silly songs in which I make up on the spot and you laugh like I am the funniest lady, sometimes you have no time for such foolishness and say give me the goods, lady!
I hear a faint “dadadada” over your sound machine. (You stopped saying ‘mama’ sometime last week. I miss it, but we had a good run. I don’t blame you, dada is totally rad. see video below.) I walk in your room to see two little hands and a pair of eyes and a fuzzy head peering over the crib. You see me and smile, let out a few happy puppy pants, then sit on your bottom and shoot your arms up in the air for me to pick you up. I pick you up and kiss you, you rub your face into my neck and it’s heaven.
You clap! Ball your hands into tight fists, reach your arms out as far out as possible, then swing them back in fast. Over and over. Completely missing the other hand, but you don’t know it. You just stare at me, grinning proud and clap. clap. clap. I say ‘yay’ ‘hooray’ and you lift your little arms up over your head in celebration. It’s a party everyday, I’m an honored guest.
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