Eleven Months.

Dear Naomi,

You've been eleven months old for a few days now, and I can't quite wrap my mind around how quickly the time is moving by.

I want to tell you a story. The other day, you, your brother, and myself were sitting on the floor in your room. Your brother and I were about to play Candyland and as we opened the box, you started crawling towards us. The pile of playing cards caught your eye and you immediately grabbed a handful of them, looked up at me with a sparkle in your eye, and proceeded to dump them on your head. Your little mouth opened up into the most precious infectious laugh as the cards slid down your face and onto the floor. Your brother, a staunch rule follower, looked at me wide-eyed and then looked back at you with your sweet laughing face. The corners of his mouth turned upwards into a grin as he grabbed a pile of cards and dumped them on his own head, followed by some great belly giggles. Of course I wasn't going to miss out on this fun, so I grabbed a pile of cards, too, and dumped them on my head. The both of you erupted with laughter and within minutes our game of Candyland had morphed into 52 card pick-up, with purple squares, lollipops, and ice cream cone cards fluttering through the air as we dumped them on each other's heads. The laughter was uncontrollable and the moment was unforgettable, all because two little hands sought a few little cards and felt that their proper place was atop a little head.

I tell you this because this is who you are.

You create joy, Naomi.

It's what you do.

Simply, wonderfully, effortlessly.

We love you, Mouse.

Love,

Mama