You are thirteen months and two days old today.
Today you closed the door to your nursery and said “buh bye,” unable to hide your excitement about our fifteenth game of peekaboo this morning.
Today you had milk in a sippy cup for the first time, and tried to feed me some, too.
Today you had blueberries and waffles for breakfast.
Today you had peas and cauliflower hash browns for lunch.
Today you had leftover rotisserie chicken and white beans for dinner.
Today you blew raspberries on our sunset walk in Golden Gate Park.
Today you tested out different laughs, relishing the feel of scrunching up your nose and throwing your head back.
Today you stood and tried to run in the bath, challenging us in delight.
Today you sat in the dog bed and your “brother” didn’t mind.
Today I said “I love you, my William” approximately one hundred times.