My sweet, sweet boy--I have struggled for days with the content of this letter, not because there's nothing to say but because there is so much, because every time I think of you I go into emotional overload and the part of my brain responsible for logic and rational thought and organization just kind of shuts down. I've found some quiet time here in Florida, while you and Sydney play outside on the swingset at Grandma's house, to try my best to put into words how much joy and laughter you've brought into our lives, what an amazing little person you are, how much we love you.
So much has happened this last year. You started to walk, then talk a little; you discovered trucks and diggers; you developed the ability to play with your sister (much to her delight, and chagrin). The Saints had their miracle season and you were there every step of the way; now, if you see a Fleur de Lis, you point and shout "De Lee! Saints! Who Dat!!" and if you hear the "Stand up, Get Crunk" song, you drop whatever you're doing and dance with the whole of your tiny little body. You had a wonderful year with Ms. Gwen at Abeona House, and have cemented your reputation as a pint-sized Lothario--you adore the little girls in your class, and are unfailingly gentle, smiley, and attentive. If this keeps up, Mommy is going to have to beat the girls off with a stick one day (and believe me, she will).
You have beautiful golden ringlets that Mommy just can't bring herself to get cut, even though she doesn't like long hair on boys. You have big blue eyes and those big, full Roux lips. You are very, very social--you love to mimic what the bigger kids are doing and you love to repeat everything you hear. Despite your gregarious nature, you love to play on your own and could play alone for hours if we let you. Of course, no one ever wants to let you play by yourself, because you are just so much fun to be with.
When you were first born, you did not like to sleep in your crib, so you and Mommy spent the first few months of your life on the couch downstairs, where you slept nestled in the crook of my arm. We'd sleep for a few hours, you'd wake up to eat and cuddle, then we'd snuggle in for a few more hours. The world was quiet and it was just us two, in our sleepy cocoon, and I'm not sure I've ever been happier. I loved those precious early days, and I've loved watching you grow into such a loving, joyful, smart, sincere, and funny little boy.
When you were first born, you did not like to sleep in your crib, so you and Mommy spent the first few months of your life on the couch downstairs, where you slept nestled in the crook of my arm. We'd sleep for a few hours, you'd wake up to eat and cuddle, then we'd snuggle in for a few more hours. The world was quiet and it was just us two, in our sleepy cocoon, and I'm not sure I've ever been happier. I loved those precious early days, and I've loved watching you grow into such a loving, joyful, smart, sincere, and funny little boy.
2 comments:
*sniff* *dab* *sigh*
Yea, I'll beat them off with you.
You captured Evan's sweet, magnetic nature so perfectly here. Thank you for sharing this, and him, with us so freely. To know him is to love him, truly. He's a delight, and I understand the resistance to write about him growing. But the thought of the person he continues to become excites me.
We love you, Evan. Thanks for being you.
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