Dear Ian,
You have been a challenge to me this week. Not for anything particular, just in general. Perhaps the stars are out of alignment or the world is tilted wrong on its axis. I guess it happens to all of us now and again.
You are now 18 months old. Your vocabulary is vast and you talk all the time. You are starting to put together short sentences: Where Dada go? Sit down Pawpaw. Dada at home. You comprehend even more than you can say.
One of my favorite things in the world is coming to pick you up at the end of the day. Especially when I walk in the door to your classroom and it takes you several moments to realize I am there. I get to observe you as your own being, separate and apart from me in the world. And then when you see me, you light up and call out Mama, or more recently Mommy, and hurry over for a hug. You know we need to get your cup and your sheet before we can leave.
You aren't ready to potty train but you are getting close. You are becoming very self-aware in this area. I admit that I would love for you to be ready for this but I certainly don't want to rush you. I know that would end in disaster.
I really like that you are finally sitting down with me long enough to actual read a book. You like to sit next to me on the couch and go through the book with me slowly. You even have some of the words down in the pattern to Sandra Boynton's The Barnyard Dance. I can almost say that one perfectly without the book in front of me.
Keep growing and learning, little boy. You teach me so much.
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