The smiling goat just keeps me in the zone...this is how I think boys are going to be looking at my daughter in about 12 years. My head sinks in to my hands at the thought.
Just click on the teenager...err goat...to see the pics.
A spot for Madelyn's daddy to post the exciting, important, and fun stuff she does (and other ramblings, I'm sure).
of cracks and creaks in her bedroom floor that I have mapped in my brain over countless missions to her bedside. I've also had to ensure (several times) that the IEDs that are her toys have been cleared as well. The ball that I have tripped over, the bouncy horse that begins clippety clopping along, or the Devil Dog that awakens at the slightest touch and tells you of its undying love and need for a hug as you approach its perimeter. For those who don't believe me, it's the one toy I don't ever put in her bed. And then I'm there...hearing her deep sleep breaths and her little snores and know that my mission has been accomplished. No one else feels this way do they?
I took my baby daughter to the doctor the other day, so just wanted to report on her vital statistics. She is now 23 pounds (yes...that's right...19mos and 23 pounds). That puts her in the 25th percentile for weight which is where she's always been. Her head, however is in the 75th percentile so her big brain is progressing just fine (I've put a new picture of her on the right).