Dear Violet,
Remember when you came into this world, like, a month ago? Oh, it was five months ago? Well, despite that, I need to ask of you a favor.
Stop growing up so dang fast.
Seriously, what's your hurry? Lately you've been sporting an "I can do it on my own" attitude, and let me warn you, missy, it ain't gonna fly in this house. I will be holding your bottle, and be responsible for you sitting up as well. And what's with all of the talking? I swear, I can't get a word in edge-wise.
And another thing - we've got to talk about your pajama problem. You're growing in length entirely too fast. I barely had chance to let you wear those three month footless carter's pj's before I could barely even snap closed the bottom anymore. And they were so cute, Violet. So. Cute. You're in Old Navy 6 monthers now, and even those you're filling out already. Now I know you've got some Indiana blood in you on your daddy's side, but there's no need to strive for your basketball career just yet. Slow it down, alright? I'm going broke trying to keep up.
Lastly, I've noticed you eyeballin' my food lately. You're on formula, you got it? I don't care how much you want to try mashed bananas and carrots and things, I'm not ready. I mean, you're not ready. I knew this would start when I decided to let you have some rice cereal. I've heard it's a gateway food.
Look, sweetheart, I love you so much. You're my precious little monkey, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. But I am willing to compromise.
You give me this one last month of cuddles, and tummy time, and total mama dependence, and I promise to consider some of your requests on your 6 month birthday. Until then, let's enjoy this together, shall we?
Love,
Mama
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