Where’s our baby?

That question has been on our minds frequently.  It’s hard to believe that Addison’s first birthday is fast approaching.  One year.  Seriously.  That’s just insane.  Some nights it seems like forever — like lately when she cut her first two teeth in the last two weeks — but mostly, I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since our baby girl joined us here.

No doubt I’ll be musing on this topic a few times over the next few weeks, because that’s what I do, but today I’m feeling like the thing I’ll miss most about my baby is all that glorious baby chub.  I mean, just look at those arms:

You used to be able to hide things in all those extra rolls, but now they’re just . . . arms.  No secret pockets.  *sigh*

Seeing this picture on Neal’s computer again last night, made me realize that I wanted to record a few little anecdotes before I forget.  Perhaps I’ve written them before, but I don’t have time to check (after all, according to my schedule I’m supposed to have eaten, showered,  pumped, and read scriptures by this time of the morning — yeah right).

• When Addison was about 16 hours old, Neal noticed and pointed out that she had those extra creases right in the middle of her forearms.  It made it look like her forearms were bent right in the middle.  Perhaps I can blame sleep deprivation because I hadn’t slept for about 36 hours, but I FREAKED OUT . . . just a little.  Arms aren’t supposed to bend there.  Does she have two elbows?  Did anyone check if she has two elbows???  (I mean, technically, it would have been four elbows, so you can see how tired and crazed I must have been.)

The others happened this summer when one of my adorable seven-year-old cousins met her for the first time.  He had a number of immediate reactions, which I wish I had on tape because he’s quite a funny little fella, but these are the ones I can still remember.

• She’s really buff.
• Her arms look like Popeye.
• She looks like a boy. Which was later followed by (because he seemed to realize that girls may not like being told they look like boys): Well, she doesn’t look like a boy.  She looks like a girl . . . who shaves her head . . . so that she looks like a boy.

Ah, I miss that baby! (Although the head-shaving thing probably still applies since she seems to be taking after her mom in the hair department — that’s right, folks, no hair till I was three years old.  Seriously.)