Dearest Lilley,

Oh dearest baby child. 

You are like the filament in my light bulb.

You are like the hands of my masage therapist relaxing my soul.

You are like the two-ply with extra stitching in my toilet paper.

You are the only baby that I have ever loved that wasn’t my flesh and blood.

I mean loved.  Loved like I would jump in front of a bus or a train or Mariah when she is on her way to the tanning bed.

Other babies will be on their own…maybe their adorably chunky cheeks will help protect them.

But you – you have my chunky cheeks on your side.  They are here to keep you outta harm’s way. 

Baby Lilley – I can officially say that I love you more now than I love your nursery.  And that is one dang cute nursery.

Dearest little monk of chunk – You realize that you did a terrible monstrosity of a thing.

Something that can never be undone.

Something so horrible that men everywhere are mocking my husband with snickered laughs and pointing fingers.

Darling baby dearest.

Sweet sugar lump lump.

Cuddly puddly muddly wuddly.

Look what you did.

You turned our world upside down.

You changed everything.

What ever did you do?!?!

You made my boyfriend want a baby!!!

 

My sweet man-toy now dreams about masculine diaper bags, dimpled thighs, and changing diapers.

Well, maybe not the last one.

 

Thanks for officially boarding us on the I-wanna-baby-train.

XO – Auntie Katie

 

p.s.  Stay away from boys.  And hottubs.  And anyone named Lindsay Lohan.