My baby is gone

gross! the smashing of the cupcake at Molly Mae’s First Birthday.

First-year check-up stats:

28 1/2 inches long
17 pounds, 4 oz.

Check-ups are starting to be fun now, because the doctor makes Molly complete a series of tests. It’s like a game show! Throw the ball, put the cube in the cup, stack the blocks, scribble on paper. She gets hree “fails” before they cut her off, and thus far, she’s off-the-charts GENIUS. At least, that’s what I’m assuming when I see them mark some skill level above 12 months. It must be a burden being so superior all the time, poor baby. No wonder she takes such long naps and has such big poos.

Molly has graduated from the 10th percentile and is now about 18th percentile in height. However, she fell down to 5th percentile in weight, so the victory is tempered.  At this rate, she’ll have to ride in a rear-facing car seat until she gets her learner’s permit. Butt hose who watch her during the day can attest that she eats … well. She sometimes scarfs down more grilled cheese sandwiches than her pregnant mother can eat.

I thought she might have a tapeworm or something, but the doctor just says–like he does every time–that “she’s just going to be small.” Ain’t that the truth. Eventually, I’ll get that.

When I brought her into the office there were literally six nurses/practitioners cramming their heads into the tiny reception window to get a peak at the Amazing Walking Itty Bit. They were looking at the sign-in clipboards and scratching their heads until one of the gals we always see said something like, “That’s my Molly!” and came out to greet her. See, in Knox County, most of the cornfed babies are born weighing 17 pounds. Molly is a freak show they cannot resist.

I guess it’s better than being repulsive.

I wish I could say this was her first sucker, but her father gave her bacon when she was three months old.

Two days before her birthday, Da Molls Train started refusing her bottle, so all of a sudden she’s this walking, walking, cow’s-milk-in-a-sippy-cup-drinking human. Girl must know her mom’s got a baby on the way, cause she has always been ready to move onto the next thing.

Her new favorited obsessions are “babies” and she’ll run up to every picture of a baby that she sees and she gives it a kiss. This could be useful in three months or so. The kissing courtesy is extended to reflections of her own baby face, which is quite hilarious. She’s out-manuevered the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs and if she’s quiet for more than 45 seconds, it means she has snuck into the back room to eat Maybel’s dog food.

As Michael Padula likes to say, she’s a trip, man. She’s a trip.

gettin' ready for her first WORKING winter in Bangs, biyatches.

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