Well, not my baby. Remember my roommate Tiffany and baby Madelyn?

O, that was a good year, living with those two. And I'll probably begin the story of Tiffany, Madelyn and the apartment just like that: O, that was a good year.

It was amazing.

One year ago, Hiding Madelyn looked like this:

{Not quite sure what the ribbon was about, but lots of things are hard to explain. Like the time Tiffany gently moved the end of the hammer handle on her stomach trying to re create the sensation of the ultrasound machine to try to get Madelyn to kick from the inside. Glee and silliness abound.} And now, a year later, the baby in Madelyn is fading quickly, and she's turning into a quirky little girl with a Big Personality:

And, of course, sometimes she looks like this:

That probably comes with the personality.

Last Christmas, we had a pre-Madelyn. The end of January, she was born four weeks early. February and March she slept soundly, so tiny.

And then, she started to wake up. It seemed like everything she did socially was advanced ~ she smiled early, engaged people early, laughed early. {Making her laugh her low, maniacal belly chuckle was ridiculously easy}. In an advanced poetry class in undergraduate school, Dr. Axelrod read us a tender poem about a father picking up his infant from the crib. I so wish I could remember the title of that poem or the author; whatever emotion it invoked in me is the same thing that rises up when I think of Madelyn. Before I left the Vineyard Town, Madelyn had just started rolling over.

And my exit marks the end of my knowledge, in many ways. That's all I know. That's all I know personally. Tiffany is so good about sending pictures and videos, but, of course, it's 1/10 of the picture. Madelyn is now pulling herself up to standing. And yodeling, apparently, which I'm pretty sure is normal and listed in "Baby's First Year." ;) But, if I were to be honest, videos and pictures are as close as I'm going to get to Madelyn. And that's ok, because that's how it goes.

And lucky me, I get to see them the week of the 20th.

I'm selfishly hoping it's still so ridiculously easy to make Madelyn Pants laugh.


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