Dear Boston,
I've been waiting to write this letter for about a week, but we've been caught up in the craziness of moving. I finally found a moment while Daddy's touching up paint that I can sit down and write to you real quick.
About a week ago Daddy and I put you to bed as usual and you slept in your big boy underwear as usual. In the middle of the night Daddy and I awoke to little footsteps passing us by. Normally when you wake up in the night you come to our bed and tell one of us that you have to go potty, or you just climb in our bed to cuddle and fall back asleep. But not tonight.
Daddy and I peaked our eyes open to watch you pass us by and head straight for our bathroom. You went potty, flushed, put your Thomas the Train (or perhaps Lightening McQueen) underwear back on and pitter pattered right past us again and back to your room like it was no big deal. Like you do this all the time. As if it wasn't one of those stop us in our tracks (even at 2 am) parenting moments that deserves some acknowledgement! But there was no clapping, no cheering. You didn't even stop to look back to see if we were watching, you just walked on by leaving Daddy and I to turn to each other and at the same time say, "Big boy!" in somewhat sad voices.
Watching you grow up is adorable and exciting and heartbreaking all at the same time. Some of the time you're so aware of how big you're getting and you swell up with pride in all your big boy glory. But most of the time you don't see how much your changing and growing and turning into this amazing little person, but I do. I'm so acutely aware of it and I gotta tell you kid, you're breaking my heart a little.
Slow down. Be little always. At the very least don't stop saying, "I need Momma". I already had to give up "Poons for spoons", that's where I draw the line.
