Dear Lochlan James

Dear Lochlan James, 

My sweet baby boy...except you're not a baby anymore. 

This is what you are, my darling boy. A person, the size of life.

You have big finger paint hand prints and a big grownup head that you squeeze through a 2T shirt  all by yourself. You tell jokes. "I am going to throw you in the rubarb"! as we jump on the trampoline and will then say "I just kidding, I just playing a joke". You run away from a Mama Monster. You hide and seek (mostly hide and then reveal yourself shortly thereafter.)

You elaborate. "When, when, when it's the weekend and no work today, no Sarah's today (daycare), I stay home and watch Blippi on my iPad and I can have my favorite cookies and when it gets warm out we can, we can play with my water table. You remember my water table Mama? And we can put bubbles wit soap in dare and then jump on the trampoline".

You sing full songs with perfect pitch. "Down by the bay. Where the watermelons grow. Back to my home. I dare not go. For if I do. My mama would say. Have you ever seen a lama eating their pajamas? Down by the bay!"

You help. With everything. "Can I help?" Laundry, dishes, dinner, sweeping the floor, wiping the table, and now feeding Mr. Fishy Face and helping to change the water. 

You are such a lovely person. I am so proud of who you are. I sincerely adore spending time with you. You are a joy. You are my joy.

I will always, always, do everything I can to be there for you, even when it isn't enough. Ultimately, we will all be here, together in this life. I love you my sweet little boy. 



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