Out with the new, in with the Old

Last night as Matt we playing his daily game of "I'm going to bite your chin" with Madeline, who loves this game with all the laughter she possesses, we looked at each other and I poked Madeline's belly and you could tell that Matt and I were both thinking the same thing: "Is Madeline getting fat?"

I was the first to articulate this thought (like always). Matt said, "No...but...she has gotten big lately, hasn't she?" The truth is that Maddy probably hasn't gained more than a pound in the last few months and she is perfectly toddler sized, a square 50 percentile kind of kid (except in height and I blame Matt for every inch of it). But ever since Matthew was born, Madeline has grown disproportionately fast.

I think this is why the only time I hear my mom say that she is old is when she is talking about the age of my oldest brother. He turned 38 this past summer. For the last few years I've heard my mom comment every once-in-awhile about how she has an "almost forty year old" and wring her face in a grimace. She is not old unless she is a mother of a 40 year old. And Maddy was still a baby until we had a seven pound, stick-legged boy move into the house. And all the sudden I have two children and a mortgage and I am an established married lady with a rocking chair on my porch and a growing food storage.

Out with the new little guy and in with the old. Who would've thought?