The Lorix Chronicles

Dear Milo,

I have decided that you are the cutest baby boy on the planet.  Your handsomeness overwhelms me and I love your spirit and charisma.  But there are a few things we need to talk about, li’l Bub.

I don’t know how many times you woke me up in the middle of the night this week. I lost count. Do you think you could stop doing that soon?  Or maybe learn a word. Like “Daddy.”

You started walking last week.  There have been a lot of bumps, bruises and crying.  True, you are twenty-three pounds of awesomeness, but you’re not indestructible. You’re a smart boy, though, and I know you’ll figure it out.

Oh, and that musical chair that your uncle gave you?  The one that’s just the perfect height for twenty-three pounds of awesomeness to sit in?  I know you love it.  It’s your favorite toy.  Could you stop standing on it? (See above paragraph for reason why).

So, who knew you could climb stairs?  You did!  You neglected to tell your father and me, but we found out just in time to discover you on the tenth stair.  Way to go, buddy!  Now, don’t ever do it again.  Just kidding.  You can try, but that gate may be difficult for you to scale.

I guess I need to remember to close the bathroom door too.  The toilet is just a world of wonder for you, isn’t it? Mmmm, that cold, fresh water on your hands feels so invigorating. It’s not, honey. It’s disgusting. Please stop.

Speaking of toilets, could you maybe not eat the toilet paper anymore? I’m sure it’s delectable, but we need that stuff. And no, we don’t need it so you can rip off little pieces to throw at my feet while I’m showering. Thanks for the kind gesture anyway.

I appreciate your help with the laundry. I didn’t know who would be able to take all the folded clothes out of the baskets and off the couch, unfold them and throw them around the living room. Thanks, sweetie. You were well-equipped for that task.

A few more requests, Milo. Could you not cry every time I come back into a room after I’ve been gone for a while? Could you not bang your forehead against my chest as your sign for nursing? Could you not eat everything that you find on the floor (though I’m sure dryer lint is delicious)?

Oh, but Milo?

Please don’t ever stop smiling at me with these eyes.

(And don’t stop spinning the cat in the computer chair, either.  That’s some funny stuff.)

I love this baby boy so much, hands in the toilet and all.