Then, my baby looked like this:
Sweet little cueball round-cheeked, flower-wearing Beep-baby... Early on we learned to bundle her into a carseat and run away, seeking refuge from the heat and the daily grind. We bypassed the revelry of our earlier prebaby times together in bars and crowded riverfronts and happily found ourselves filling bottles, applying gentle sunscreen, and strapping on a tiny sunhat. We didn't need a 21-and-up crowd to have The Best Time Ever.
But time flies, and now our baby is a toddler. She walks well- runs, actually- knows right from left, sings her ABCs, and points out cows, horses, and kids everywhere we go. She's grown, of course, but as a petite two-year-old Beep is still portable. On a daily basis I'm struck by the depth and breadth of her knowledge and understanding of her world, and her sparkling intelligence, but I often forget just how much she's actually grown.
Until I see a comparative picture like this: