You are the cutest 20 month old that ever there was, my grubs. I love you so much, I’m so glad I get to stay home with you everyday! You are a joy to be around, and I am saying that after this morning where you threw two tantrums at playgroup, hit me, tried to hit one of the co-ordinators, and screamed like I was beating you. I say this after you try to smear your poopy bum all over my bed almost every single time I change your diaper. I will say it to you when you are 5 and you hate me for making you go to bed. I will say it to you when you are 10 and you think I hate you because I make you go to school. I will say it to you when you are 13, 14, 15, and 16 and you call me a facist. I will say it to you when you are 18 and mistake my concern for prying and don’t think I could ever possibly know what it’s like. I might not say it WHILE you are doing these things, but you are a pretty great little person and while I might not always be the nicest mother in the world, not in your eyes or in mine, I will never forget that I’m the luckiest.
Thank you for being so sweet, my love.