Not to learn

Dear Thomas,

You have now officially begun your 3rd year. And last year there were a few things you learned that broke my heart. (Dropping the extra syllable in "Stuh-le-la"? That's just mean.) Just to set the record straight, I want to be sure you know there 5 things I would prefer you do not learn this year.

1. Please do not learn jump without galloping every other step. You're well on your way to breaking this one, but if you totally lose the gallop I'm not sure what we'll do.
2. Please do not learn to say the word giraffe, because the day you stop sticking your tongue in and out like a lizard to tell me you saw one somewhere, my life will be over.
3. Please do not learn to open the fridge by yourself. Actually please do not learn to open any doors by yourself. It just seems like something that would make my life hard.
4. Please do not learn that my kisses do not actually have magic in them. Because they do.
5. Please do not learn to say "seven" because "sne-nen" is way way cuter and I'm secretly hoping you still say it that way when you turn 7 years old.

Technically speaking I want you to learn all that you can and be the best person possible and grow into a responsible adult.

But the truth of the matter is that I want you to stay my baby forever and ever. And if you ever stop crawling up on my lap so I can dry your tears I'll be crawling into your lap so you can dry mine.

Love,
Mom