T, you have moved from baby phase to ragamuffin phase.

Gone are the days of mellow cooing, easy naps, and fresh shirts from laying around in mom’s lap all day.

You hair is longer and always fuzzed into a mess.

Your clothes are always dirty from school – or crawling all over the floor at home on the weekend.

And you point and grunt at everything, saying a rudimentary version of “that.” You mean “look.”

You are a little hot mess express right now.

I mean, we got you home from school yesterday and your feet stank!

Babies feet are not supposed to stink!

You’re growing up.

You still have sweet little baby chub on your arms and legs though, and I try to kiss it as often as I remember.

My sweet beautiful girl.

I love you.

-Dad