Ain't No Baby Book Girl

Today as I was putting Dani’s clothes away, I caught a glimpse of her barely touched baby book, buried underneath the general closet clutter. The little twinge of pink-gingham covered guilt. The hard-bound reminder that I had succumbed to the second-child cliche.

Her dental record....unrecorded. The girl only has four teeth, so it shouldn’t be that hard to fill in a few dates. But the molars will remain a mystery, and her baby book untouched.

Her trip home from the hospital. Well, she got home okay, as far as we know. But according to her book, well, we’re not even sure what her name is.

Her first vacation? Geez, we were all over the place with that girl. We moved when she was five months. She went house-hunting with us at 12 weeks (she wasn’t fond of this, and I vividly remember her screaming temperament without the help of a baby book). But according to her book, hmmm....was she a boy or a girl?

So this is the deal, Sheridan. You get a blog. No baby book for you. Just this silly blog. Tell ya what, I’ll print it out for you, and you can see for yourself how darn cute you were. And maybe deduce from the pictures when you finally got teeth. And I’m pretty sure you won’t care what you liked to eat when you were eight months old, so I won’t bother to blog about that.

As for your first words, well, that seems to be transpiring now. We’ve got various forms of Mommy, Daddy, Caed, Calli, Doggy, Banana, Thank you (though that’s only been witnessed by Nana & Del), Belly and Peekaboo.

Your percentile? We’ll find that out next week at your 15 month appointment. But it’s safe to say that “stout” will be a term you won’t shake anytime soon. Your dad says you have a perfect build for soccer and lacrosse. He’s being kind.
And that’s all I have to say about that.

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