I’m sorry I have not updated in a few months, but I’m sure you understand. So much has been going on in life. Your dad and I bought a house for you to live in. And we’ve had several trips back North to save money on hotels. Oh yes. We were living in hotels for a few months trying to get you a house. But we’re done, and your dad and I are better people for it.
And now you have your own room. And your puppy. And your kitty. And a backyard for when you get old enough to play in the backyard – which, let’s face it, may be sooner than we think.
But so much has happened with you between newsletters. You’ve grown and changed so much. You learned to crawl, and eat real food, and now you’re even learning to stand on your own and walk.
And you are so interested in music. I think you always have been, but it’s so much more interesting now. You love the piano, and you try to play it whenever possible. You have your own little red piano that you got from your amazing Godmother, and you love playing that. But when that’s out of reach, you’ll do anything and everything you can to get to the big piano and bang on the keys. Your Godmother gave you all kinds of toys that her kids used to play with, and you love those just as much, and you discover a new toy every day. One day it was blocks, and the next the bongos. I wonder what it will be tomorrow.
You’re so determined now. If you want something, you go get it. Or you try like hell until either mom or dad stops you. And you’re spending more fun and play time in your room, and you love it so much. In fact, today, while dad was watching you, you crawled into your room and back out with a block in your hand. I was so impressed and in awe of how smart you are. You wanted that block, and you knew where it was and how to get it. You are just so smart. I can’t wait to see what else you’ll come up with.
Of all the cute things you do, your dad and I are especially amazed at your love for the piano. Today, you were miserable and sad, perhaps from being tired, and dad put you on the piano bench so you could play, and instantly you were cheered up. You were so happy to be so close to those keys, and to be making noise come from them. And then you did something amazing, that may have just been a coincidence. You heard “Happy Birthday” on the TV show we were watching, and you played two notes from the song. You matched pitch perfectly. Your dad almost fell on the floor, he was so proud. It might have been purely coincidence. And even if it was, I think you’ve got something special, and I can’t wait to see your talents flourish.
The other day, we started a growth chart for you on the kitchen wall. Since you can stand almost on your own now, I figured it was time to start measuring and creating a memory of it. I found a cute idea on Pinterest that involved not only putting down your age and height, but also what you want to be when you grow up. You’re still too young to tell us, so we just wrote down “musician.” You hear that? No pressure. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. I can’t wait to measure you again and again, and watch you grow.
It’s amazing how much you’ve done in eight months. You’ve been so busy for a little guy. And I have so many pictures of you, it’s hard to decide which ones best show you off.
In less than a month, we’ll be taking a vacation to Orlando and St. Petersburg to visit your aunts and uncles, and Grammie and Papa. This will be your first real vacation. I can’t wait for everyone to see how much you’ve grown and changed since they last saw you. And I can’t wait for everyone who hasn’t met you yet to meet you. They’re just going to fall in love.
Logan, you are the most important little guy in my life, and watching you grown and change and learn has been the best time I’ve ever had.
And I promise, I won’t wait so long to write your next letter. Better late than never, I guess.