You can understand me?

Dear Andy,

This morning, you were running around the living room and were heading into the dining room. Daddy and I were sitting on the couch and I said to you "Andy, can you find a truck?"

You turned around, looked pensive, and starting searching. You got on your tummy, shimmied underneath the coffee table (your new favorite jungle gym), and found a truck. You brought it to Daddy, and we both stared at you in amazement.

You're so darn smart. I know we're your parents and we're supposed to think that. But you really are. Today, trucks. Tomorrow: the world.

Let's Roll

Dear Andy,
I'm finally doing this - thanks in part to our friend Heather who inspired me with her great letters to her little J. I want to write some things so that you'll remember what was going through my mind as you grew up (way too fast) and all the fabulous things you did. Thankfully, you have a fabulous first year baby book that Aunt Evelyn made for you, since Mommy's scrapbooking skills are, well, somewhat sub-par. You're 14.5 months now, and learning and doing something new every day. So, I better start writing them down, right?

So, to start...you started walking three days ago. You've been cruising along the furniture for months and I've been telling people that you'll be walking "any day now" since before Christmas. But, like everything, you did it in your own time, and just had to wait until you really wanted to do it. Now you're an official toddler, and it's a wobbly world out there. You tend to incur at least one head injury a day, but so far no harm done, thanks mostly to the genetic predisposition that you have to the "Latham Hard Head." I can't believe that the tiny baby I was holding a year ago is toddling around and climbing on high things now. Where does the time go? And will I ever stop saying that?