My Dear Emily Rose,

Today you did the sweetest thing. If there were a meter measuring my love for you moment by moment, it would have shot through the roof at this. You were on the floor with the baby and Mommy, playing. Anna Grace started fussing, so you went over to her, tried to get her on your lap, and proceeded to lift up your dress and "nurse her". You smiled up at me, as though to say, "It's okay, Mommy. I'm taking care of her."

Then, a little later, when Mommy was on the couch nursing Anna, Anna kept getting on and off the breast repeatedly. She was interested in the swaying trees outside the window; it was a windy day. You wanted to help Mommy so you kept turning Anna's head back to the breast. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind the interference.

Two-year-olds don't come more active than you, My Love! And they also don't come any sweeter.

All My Love,
Mommy