Recently I have had a chance to hold a few babies. Yes, people have entrusted ol' butter fingers with their precious offspring. I don't know what they were thinking either.
Anyway, that led me to the conclusion that my baby isn't a baby anymore. I'm sure other people noticed long ago. But it has taken me until now to figure it out. I've been trying to delay the inevitable for a long time. I, until recently, still put her in 18m onsies. What! They still fit. So why shouldn't she wear them. I gave her coffee to stunt her growth. OK, that one is a lie. But I did think about it.
But I can deny it no longer. These pictures prove my point.
She a big girl. She is quick to tell you she uses the potty. Yes, TELL you. She's finally talking. In words. And if you show any interest what so ever in her pottying she will show you her pink underwear. Don't believe me, just ask the little old lady in Target the other day who was just a little too impressed by Anna's statement. She got an eye full of pink panties. Speaking of undies, she is very opinionated about the underwear in her flashing arsenal. Only pink ones will do. Do you know how many pink panties come in a package of little girl underwear? I do. About three. The rest I may as well throw in the garbage. Because she isn't going to wear without waging WW III.
My baby is growing. I miss the baby. But I love the little person she's become. Flashing and all.
