I pulled out my baby book the other night in hopes of finding out some insider information about half of Baby Jordan's genetic make-up. The things I discovered terrified me.
We'll start with something good, though. I weighed 7 pounds 4 ounces. That seems like a manageable birth weight. I can do 7 pounds 4 ounces.
But I looked like this.
Have you ever seen such an angry expression on a sweet little baby's face? LJ said, "You look like you're about to cut somebody."
I'm pretty sure she's right. Either that or I was squishing something out in my diaper.
How did I forget that I wasn't a cute baby? Seems like something you wouldn't forget about yourself.
The second strike against my Netherton genes: My mom referred to me as "Miss Piggy" most of the time she wrote about me in my baby book. I was a girl who liked to eat right out of the gate. And everyone thought I was a fat baby. Now I'm insecure.
There are two things I'm counting on:
The Jordan genes seem to be working in my favor. Ty was a cutie pie baby! He reminds me of my nephew Beckett in this picture. I think it's just the lips.
And this reminds me I need to ask my mother-in-law about Ty's birth stats.
Even if Baby Jordan takes after me and comes out looking like a little red sumo wrestler, it won't last long. By Christmas 1981, six months after I was born, I didn't look so angry anymore.
But even if we make it through the first six months and Baby Jordan eventually stops scaring people with his/her withering stares. There are other mountains to conquer.
What if I bring more hair like this into the world?
I don't know if there are enough hours in a day to tame this twice. Maybe I should start facing the inevitable and seek out support. At what age is it appropriate to start straightening your child's hair?