Dearest Danjo,
Hello there, silly goose!
You and your sister came home from vacation last night. And it was horrendous.
Like horror movie horrendous: tantrums, spinning heads, vomit and, I kid you not, avocado green diarrhea. You. Are. Welcome. For that visual. (You're not eating while you're reading this, right? Oh, you are? Avocado on your salad? Guacamole? Mmmmmm.)
I've written before about the world-wide phenomenon of Ugliness Upon Arrival. It goes that, even, the most well-behaved children, having spent a lovely day (or week) away from their mother, pleasant little civilized humans, out and about in the public eye; these creatures completely deteriorate upon sight of said mother and arrival home. And yesterday afternoon was further proof that I am, indeed, your ugly place.
Your saving grace: bedtime.
And a new day, wherein I squeeze you close, send you off to daycare and sit here, nostalgically recalling your twenty-second month of life, lingering on the good stuff.
Every month I tell you that words don't do you justice. So, instead of writing this month, I made this for you:
To Danjo on the Occassion of Being Twenty-Two Months Old from Lauren Gibbs-Beadle on Vimeo.
Love,
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Holler! Make sure to like Dearest Daughters on Facebook if you want to keep up with Danjo on the Daily. See you here next week!
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