Dear Freddie-Fred -
Oh, my sweet, sweet baby. This is going to be short and words and heavy on photos because you have become the latest (and hopefully last) member of our family afflicted with the fever virus. So let's get down to it, shall we?
You've been getting to spend more quality time with the Yan lately, and that is a good thing. You kinda like her.
You also like this lady. A lot.
And this brother. In fact, he was among the first people to receive a sweet, slobbery kiss from you.
For the record, I will take one million of those kisses, please, all wrapped up under the christmas tree.
Besides kisses, you want everything else in your mouth, please. It's pretty cute, really.
This is the obligatory 'you know you're a fourth kid' photo, because there is no way in H-E-double-hockey-sticks I would have ever let Sam gnaw on a hairbrush. Also, what in H-E-double-hockey-sticks is a hairbrush doing in my foyer?
Know what you don't like? Besides fevers? Being kept out of somewhere. Anywhere, really. Baby gates are your enemy. Sadly for you, they are going to be a pretty permanent fixture in your life for a while.
Aside from the current weepy/snugly thing you've got going on, you are still, by FAR, the most pleasant kid I've ever had the pleasure of birthing. Or knowing, for that matter.
I tell you this at least a dozen times a day, but you are my most favorite person in the whole wide world. You make every day more fun that it ever could have been without you. Every time I hold you in my arms, I feel at peace. So if you could just hang out there for another fifty or sixty years, that would be great, ok?