Dear 16-month-old,

Little girl, I don't think I know anyone as hilarious as you. Maybe your father, so I guess that confirms you are his. Not that there was any doubt.
It has been so worth it to share our time, space and paychecks with this little person who runs and squeals and eats markers. Not too long ago, I showed you how a pen worked by drawing a squiggly line on a piece of scrap paper. You looked at it, wide eyed, like I was some kind of magician. Honestly, I felt like one with a reaction like that. We ran out that day to purchase the Crayola color wonder papers and markers. These markers only work on that specific paper (I was keeping our house selling endeavours and our walls in mind), so it takes a while for the ink to appear on the paper, kind of like magic ink. These eighths of a second of waiting were way too long for you to be amused, but you did find the tips of the markers to be mighty tasty. I dug the package out of the garbage can, desperately searched for the words "non toxic," which I found, then walked away to enjoy my moment of peace.
Those markers are old news to you by now, but I do hand you a pen every now and then in search of the same amazed reaction. Then after I put you down for a nap, I walk around with a magic eraser, in awe at the places you were able to creatively mark up...like underneath the toilet bowl.

Tomorrow we travel alone together, just the two of us on an airplane, to visit your grandparents in Florida. I am scared out of my mind to do this for a thousand reasons. Will you make me cry before we get through security, will you poop on the plane, will your long legs kick, kick, kick the person next to us, will your ears hurt, will I hurl us both out of the emergency exit by the time we are over North Carolina?

Believe me, these worries are all born out of experience.

Still, I can't wait to hold you on my lap for and kiss the back of your head for two hours. I am armed with DVDs and books and the emergency safety card that you loved to eat on our last flight. Oh yeah. A piece of paper and a pen.

Love,
Mom