Well, it's official. There are no more babies in our house. I suppose it's been that way for some time now, technically speaking...there's not been diapers & cribs for ages. But I've still been allowed to refer to a certian someone as My Baby until now. I don't know what the heck happened. She went to bed one night perfectly happy to be The Baby. She seemed to enjoy the title, as well as that position in the family. I'd ask her every day - sharing our big chair in the mornings watching VH1 after getting the big kids out the door to the bus stop - if she was My Baby. She'd answer Yes...as long as I wasn't blocking her view of Nickleback on the television.
But something strange happened on or around January 21st, 2008. As of that date I'm not allowed to call her My Baby. It also was the day she decided that she wasn't afraid of storms anymore, could beat her sister at Sonic at the Olympic Games on the Wii, and didn't need to suck her thumb anymore.
Well, the storm thing & beating her sister is still true. The thumb...well...two out of three ain't bad.
My Rachel, My Ba..err...My Big Girl. (sigh)
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