Let me begin with a confession. I misplaced your baby book. It's around here somewhere -- it must be -- but I don't know where. I guess this takes me out of the running for Mother of the Year, but I can live with that. Don't worry, though. I have been keeping a list of momentous occasions in your life, in case the book ever shows up.
The best thing happened today. You learned to give kisses! I had a hunch you have been trying to figure this one out, and today you confirmed it. I picked you up from your crib, asked for a kiss, and you planted a big open-mouthed one on my lips. Then my heart melted. You gave me five more kisses today.
This month you perfected the art of scooching around the house on your bottom. You can crawl but choose not to, and I'm okay with that. The scooching is hilarious. Daddy and I joked about how your technique is much like the Olympic skiers who ski the moguls -- your upper body doesn't move and your legs do all the work. Now you are a force to be reckoned with. You have also pointed out how dirty the floors are, since you have a semi-permanent black stripe on the outside edge of all your socks.
(Here's another confession: Your mommy isn't the world's best housekeeper. I would rather read a book, take a photograph, hang out with friends, or floss my teeth than spend a lot of time on housework. The cleaning does get done, but I've realized that even if I vacuum every day, I still have to deal with Scooter and Penny's shedding. Those two really know how to make a mess and not clean it up.)
The best part of all of it is that I get to spend every day with you. I don't have other obligations pulling me away, like I did in the fall. Even when I take time for myself, I always return grateful to hold you again. We always have fun together, and every day I am thankful that this is my life, with you and with Daddy.
Lily, I am falling more in love with you each day. Thank you.