First of all, you were born on Mother’s Day and I cannot think of a better gift. Ten days late with full chubby cheeks, you could lift your head up, which would blow the nurses away. You never stopped blowing me away.
By four months old, your dad and I were walking you in and out of New York museums. You also inexplicably turned orange which alarmed your parents so much that I made an unwell baby visit to the pediatrician. He looked at you and asked right away if we were feeding you a lot of carrots. Oops my bad. Yes, WAY too many jars of strained carrots, your favorite. By age one, I knew you already appreciated art. You could also finish sentences in your baby books. Well, to be fair, one-word sentences. This was very impressive to the other mother’s in Washington Square Park where we played every day.
Turning you orange, one bite of carrots at a time!!