Party Of One

Dear Laney,

Lately, I think you've been craving some alone time. How can I tell? Because you put on your snow boots (50% of the time on the right feet), and then you head for the back door. Once outside, you pull the door shut behind you while I wave goodbye to you from inside. Then you walk laps on the deck, muttering to yourself and shaking your head. Sometimes, you stomp.

Occasionally, you're willing to let Gus walk in circles with you, but more often you tell him "No!" and poke him in the nostril.

Maybe it's those other kids at daycare that drive you to it. Maybe you get sick of me always asking you, "Can you say...?" Maybe you get tired of being told where to sit and what to eat and when to nap. Maybe, like Grandma Sue, you just think it's too hot inside.

Whatever it is, you seem to like a few minutes every afternoon to be outside, rolling solo.

Do I watch you from inside like a hawk? Sure. In fact, just today, Ella and Gus and I were huddled inside, hiding behind the curtains to maintain the illusion of your independence, all watching as you walked back and forth on the deck. I'm sure we were all thinking the same thing...

It can't be ME, can it? No, surely not. Must be Dad.

Love,

Mom