Dear Leaf Baby,

Yesterday you turned seven months old. Happy seven month birthday anniversary, my Leaf boy.

When you were born, a few people said that you seemed special somehow. I think that they were foreseeing this:



Everyday for a week and a half now, you have pooped in the toilet. I can usually tell when you are crying because you have to poo, and since you refuse to do it in your diaper I take you to the toilet and we sit there, me cross-legged on the bathroom floor, while you do your business.



It is amazing, this feat of yours. YaYa is beginning to think that SHE should be potty-trained, not because Kid A is, but because you are, seeing as you are the person in the family that she most desires to be like. You, lucky thing, get to be spoon fed pureed carrots and rice cereal. I wish that I could just open my mouth and have someone spoon in a mouthful of mush, and then wipe my mouth carefully with the spoon. YaYa wishes she could be spoonfed too.



I'm not going to say much else, except that I love you more than you could know. I will love you forever.



Photo credit: Chinua