Your Dad and I have washed them a MILLION times. We've assembled their many parts so many times we can do it blindfolded. We might have cursed them on more than one occasion. But tonight, as I packed them away until the next baby, I cried about them. Well, I cried about you never needing one again. The bottles. It really started because I tried to remember the very last time I fixed you a bottle and gave it to you. I couldn't. And I bawled. Because that means that I forgot something about you. I know it's a condition of the brain, to remember some things but forget most, but it's just not okay with me when it comes to you. I want to remember every moment. To be able to conjure any experience we've had together. To know that you are right there in my thoughts when I need you.
Things seem to be moving at a breakneck pace since you were born. You are growing up so very fast. The experience of raising you is the best thing your Dad and I have ever been a part of. Every day you bring a joy to our lives that we are so grateful for. Last night we were talking about you over our dinner date and both of us were just brimming with pride and wonder over what a happy, curious and smart little boy you are. We had just been trick-or-treating earlier in the night and you were so into it. We were impressed at how quickly you caught on and how thrilled you were to pick out candy from the bowls of neighbors. You were delighted and you were a delight. You were the cutest skeleton around. We love you.
Here's a photo representation of our Halloween trick-or-treating!
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