Dear Griffin,

Your mom and I are going to Mexico tomorrow morning. Cozumel. We’re staying at a resort your mom’s side of the family has been going to for, I don’t know, around 30 years or so now. All-inclusive, so we’ll eat and drink whatever we want, whenever we want, as much as we want. It’ll be fun. The first time I went was the week of the first Valentine’s Day your mom and I had together.

Milly’s coming too. She went for the first time a couple years ago and it passed Disney World as her favorite place.

And your brothers are coming too. A big part of the reason we’re going right now is that they turn two a couple days after we get back and kids under two years of age fly free. (Or so we were told until we added them to the tickets, then it suddenly became $16.something.) Travel is about to get a LOT more expensive for our family, so we’re doing what we can while we can.

It’ll be their first time, unless you include when they were in your mama’s belly.

Oh, your cousins on your mom’s side are coming too. Sebastian’s been there once, but it’ll be Gabriel’s first time. Aunt Torrie and Uncle Johnny are, of course, coming.

And Nonnie. She’s been about eight quadrillion times. She sometimes goes to Cozumel twice in a year. Pappy’s staying home with the Yorkies and the chickens.

I feel a little bad that you’re not coming. Part of it is that you’re not walking yet. I joked with you that if you started walking before we left I’d rush a passport for you. But really, we’re going to have our hands full as it is keeping an eye on your twin brothers, so adding a baby your age would just be stressful. Plus we only have so many laps for the plane ride.

But you’ll be fine here at home. Mum Mum and Auntie Rin are staying here to take care of you.

We will miss you though. Your bright smile and your laugh and the way you crawl after your brothers to see what they’re getting into (even though they mostly ignore you, which will probably be the case for a few years).

And it’s crazy how much a baby can change in a week. We probably won’t be able to put our fingers  on it, but you’ll somehow be different when we come home. I’m sure your mother will cry when she sees you.

I’ve got to say, it’s usually exasperating when you wake up around 1 AM, which is too common an occurrence for a baby your age, but I didn’t mind tonight: it gave me a chance to snuggle and kiss you again before we leave in a few more hours.

So while we will have a good time, I will miss you, my Babiest Baby.

Love,

Dad