Dear Laney,
I'm at the Missoula Airport this morning because I have to fly to LA for a few days for work. Your Grandma Sue is coming over to help your dad out, and I'm sure the three of you will have a good time while I'm gone. You'll probably watch the Super Bowl this afternoon, because for some reason I can't fathom, you seem to really love football.
This will be the first time I've spent more than 5 hours away from you since you were born. I'm trying to act like a grown-up, but I'm not off to a very good start since I cried all the way to the gas station in Frenchtown this morning.
My friend Will says that this will be good for us, because if we don't start spending a little time apart, you're going to end up like one of those 16 year old socially awkward home-schooled girls with big bangs and a long denim skirt. And we don't want that.
But know that I will be thinking of you every minute, and I've packed a photo album of your pictures in case some random stranger stops me in the airport and says "Excuse me, ma'am, but do you happen to have a five month old child that you'd like to show me pictures of?" If that happens, I will be able to say "Why yes, I do."
Love,
Mom
P.S. While I was packing this morning, your dad dressed you all by himself. He brought you downstairs in a shirt only, and when I asked "Where are her pants?" he said "We had a talk and decided we don't like pants."
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