T, what can I say?

You are my baby, my last little baby.

My last hospital visit leaving with a new kiddo. My last girl learning to walk. My last diaper change. The last little girl who will fall asleep full body length on my chest…

But the thing is this:

You are not really a baby anymore. 😢

You quit crawling. You run everywhere. You fight naps. You barely fit in a onesie.

I mean, you won’t even let me hold you like a baby anymore…

You will be two in a matter of weeks.

Above all, your ability to talk has taken off like a rocket.

I can hardly get you to say “mama” and “dada” anymore. You insist on “momm-y” and ”dadd-y.”

You say “water” when you want water, you say “better” if I ask you if something was better, and you say “bright” when the sun is in your eyes.

And of corse you know the names of your sisters along with “Pop,” Gammies,” “Grandpa,” and “Grandma,” etc…

The last few weeks you have even started repeating us.

If any of us start with “T can you say…” you will just repeat it back verbatim.

Mom had you saying “purpose” the other day for some reason.

See!? My baby saying two-sylable words…

I’m in a glass case of emotion.

I’m both sad and thankful for all the time gone by.

But I can’t wait to see what comes next.

I love you.

-Dad

T, ya look a little like Joe Diffie right now.

Well, at least your hair does…

You have this perfect blonde mullet going and it is just the most awesome thing.

Keep it forever.

I’ll probably just die of grief when my last baby gets her first haircut.

Does anyone even remember who Joe Diffie is?

He passed away last year from COVID complications and I feel like a part of my youth left with him.

90’s county was the best.

I remember listening to him on the radio as I went to sleep when I lived in Greenwood, South Carolina.

We lived, for a short time, with Grandma and Grandpa’s friends the Woods while I was in the 4th grade.

I slept in an old porch that had been converted to a room. The sounds of crickets and feel of humid summer air through the thin walls was something out of a novel.

I love you.

-Dad

T, you were the sweetest little thing this morning.

It was a chapel day at school for H and K and mom had to be at work early.

We, of course, all usually go to chapel as a family – but my boss is in town from Arizona and I wasn’t sure what time he would be in the office.

So…mom took H and K and I changed your diaper, got you ready for school, feed you breakfast, and dropped you off.

You were such an absolute ham while you ate!

I was feeding you a honey bun and you were laughing and squealing at every little thing I did.

I must have leaned over and kissed you on the face a dozen or so times.

We listened to the radio together on the way to school.

As we were leaving the driveway, I asked if I could hold your hand.

You softly said yes and held it up for me.

So we held hands the whole way and then just sat in the car for 5 minutes after we got there, listening to 90’s country music, and enjoying the moment.

It was bliss.

I love you.

-Dad