Oh–My–God–Milo. Look–at–your–butt.

It is so… big. You-look-like-one-of-those-rap-guy snowmen.  (“Snuwmin” you say)!

But you know, who understands those little Michelin men anyway?

The chicks–they only talk to you, because you look like a total badass on those baby skis.

I mean, look at you.

HOLY SHIT!

At 26 months, my man still may still rock the Pampers, but he can ski, bitches!

That’s right. He may be wearing the stiffest boots in the world. And those skis may only be 60 centimeters long. But Milo’s got moves like Jagger, I’m telling you.

Just you wait, at 4, he’ll be doing nosegrabs and ninety rolls on his board like Shaun White.

And eventually I’ll be one of those moms crying like they do in that new Proctor & Gamble ad for their little bruisers that become Olympic athletes. Can’t remember the last time a commercial made me tear up. I’m not even yanking your chain.

Peace and love,

The Nostalgic “Snuuw”mom