Dear Decker,
It’s Thursday night. On Tuesday, you were nine months old. You seem like you are getting ready to talk. You also try to pull yourself up on things. You roll around all over the place. We went to the grocery store after I picked you up from daycare. You were exhausted walking in, but the colors and sounds and people had you wide eyed in no time.
Every night when we change you into your pj’s we lay you down on the changing table, change your diaper, and put lotion on you for your little bit of eczema. Usually you cry and cry while you’re laying down, just ready for the bottle and the bed. Tonight, I sang Kenny Roger’s The Gambler to you while you were getting your PJ’s on. You loved it. You thought it was hilarious. You didn’t cry at all tonight.
I can’t believe it’s been a month since my last letter to you. Time is starting to go really quickly. The picture of you with this post is a few weeks old.
Dude, if I haven’t told you lately, or I don’t tell you enough tomorrow or next year… I love you. I’m proud of you. If you’d have known how hard it is to turn yourself from infant to toddler, you’d probably have given up before you started. Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t know how hard it all is. Everyday you get up and learn new things and put it into practice. It’s an amazing thing to watch.
All this hard work and you probably don’t even remember it. Fifty years from now, you won’t be able to say what it was like to learn to walk. You’ll have to rely on mom and I to recount it for you. We do have front row seats.
I love you buddy.
Dad