Letter 33

Dear Shea,
My poor baby girl, you are sick. And I don't mean like your brother sick; who tried to eat a fly earlier today. Last week you had a fever just under 104 degrees for a few days. Your whole body was SO hot. Every time I went to get you out of your crib you felt like flat iron that had been left on all night. One of the symptoms that developed from being so hot, was a heat rash. You were like a red spotted dalmatian, especially with those sad puppy eyes. It's probably a good thing you weren't born during Bibical times, because you'd be pronounced a leper and isolated from the town. Instead, you were just isolated for Anthony's first b-day party. =)
I spent a better part of the week on the phone with Dr. Rocco, at the walk-in clinic, on the internet looking up hives, and doing my best to keep you comfortable. Any mother knows, we just want our babies to feel better quickly and we all do whatever we have to do to help them.
I'm praying you trash the rash.

I love you polka-dot princess!

Letter 32

Dear Lincoln,
Your Papa and I love holding you and Shea in our arms at the same time and announcing proudly how we are holding "our two kids!" Sometimes I think that the World Resource Center is going to call and ask for a supply of cuteness to be given back as we've so greedily split it amongst the two of you. That cuteness was all the more evident when I was putting you down for sleepy time. You grabbed your lovey and toad into your loving grip and said, "my two kids." I realized then that grinning from ear to ear wasn't just an idiom, as I felt my face smiling that richly. I nodded and kissed your forehead goodnight. As I closed the door you said, "I love you too Mama." Knowing I hadn't said I love you, and that you were merely speaking out of habit, I closed the door praying you would always know my love, even without declaration.

I've got winning bids, on the cutest kids, and I love you!

Letter 31

Dear Shea,
Today while at the park you were playing in the sand; so amused by it's texture and enthralled in it's mass. You kept grabbing fistfuls with your pudgy hands and slowly letting the grains trickle out through your fingers. The harder you squeezed the faster the grains escaped. A picture of time.
Here you are only days from 11 months. I've known you for 20. It's amazing how fast life really does happen.
James 4:14 says, "... What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes."
I pray for you sweet Shea. As I consider the fragility of human life, and how dependent we need to be on our heavenly father, I pray that you will become a woman who spends her time wisely. Who seeks God in all things and desires to please him. Don't hold unto this life too tightly, it was only slip though your fingers. Rather, cling to your heavenly Father and desire to be like Him.

I love you sand hand Shea!

Letter 30

Dear Shea,
You took three steps today. It was amazing. I've been watching you cruise around the house for over a month, waiting for this day. I don't know where the courage came from, but it's getting stronger everyday. Yesterday, while you were holding on to the bookcase you gave me your infamous one-handed-wave and then let go of your second hand. You stood there standing and smiling for what seemed like forever. Today, I was holding your hands and walking around the house with you when I slowly moved my hands out from your grip and let you continue your stroll without me. The magic number was three. You did a few two steps and perhaps technically a four step, but for the most part you maintained three solid steps before sitting down. I feel like today was a defining moment, an intro, to toddlerhood.

Let the good times roll (or run!)
Either way, I love how you rock your walk.