Lost: Two Chins

We're down from a triple chin, to just an adorable round little face. She's still tipping the scales and coming in at the top of the percentiles (97th, to be exact), but all those little rolls are proportioning out.

I'd forgotten how sweet it is to have someone this little sleeping, snuggling and snuffling on your chest. The husband is pretty fond of that type of naptime as well, so we often end up bickering over who gets to take her in the afternoons.

I sure wish he would put up that much fight to change her after a major blowout, or when she's lost her lunch all over herself. Somehow I always end up with the worst ones in the middle of the night. The kind where you just keep pulling out wipe after wipe after wipe, wondering if you'll ever manage to sop up everything.

It's such a glorious job.

I think that should be part of health class in school. Automatic birth control. Hand the peppy teenager a squirmy baby covered from head to toe in excrement. And then make sure the baby projectile vomits all over them while they're in the middle of cleaning the first mess. And then pees on them.

I think I would almost pay to see that happen to some teenagers I know.