This past month you learned how to pick up the cats. Oh. Dear. God. Our poor, poor kitty cats. Don't get me wrong you are ever so careful. Certainly, it can be said that when you nab them to move them from a higher location to a lower one, things go more smoothly than when it's the reverse. You weigh more than twice what they do (individually not combined) but it is definitely a struggle for you and awkward and uncomfortable for them. Knowing you have this skill, though, means you're more interested in the cats. They don't get much rest unless they find a high enough place to lie down, typically this is in the cupboard over the fridge.
Of course, I must mention the five days you spent with your pops while I traveled to the Mexico! You adjusted to the parental shift with aplomb, as did your papa. The two of you were busy with activities and play dates and hanging with grandpa and scootering and driving around town and stopping at Bertie Lou's for breakfast. When you and your papa called - the phone wasn't working and we were unable to call out for the first day and a half - I didn't recognize your voice. You're nearly three and a half years old and that was the first time you and I had ever talked on the phone. And then I came home and you were sitting on your dad's lap at the airport and I got to pick you up and give you a huge hug. It was awesome. I mean, going away was cool, but coming home to you guys was so much better.