progress.

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When our son was born, I didn’t get the chance to take a picture of him before he was whisked away to another hospital. My sister, living in Denmark at the time, was very upset that she didn’t get a picture and demanded that I draw one. You know, so she could tell if he looked more like me or more like my husband.

My baby is now a year old. So here are two portaits of him. One just after he was born, and one on his birthday. Look how much he’s grown!

a hard life.

a hard life.

My niece. She’s 3. She fell asleep in the middle of the hallway for about 10 minutes somewhere around 8PM, and woke up bound and determined not to miss a minute more of what every one else was doing. She skipped her way into the kitchen and asked her dad for a bowl of cereal, and he put her in her highchair while he went to find the cheerios. While she was waiting, I asked her if she had a favorite cereal. It seems that sitting down led her to realize she actually was very tired. She didn’t even look up at me when I asked; she put her head in her hands and gave up pretending she had energy. She was done.

So while the picture suggests something more depressing or melancholy along the lines of neglect or abuse, it really is just a very artistic interpretation of a very tired little girl.

The saddest part is that it made the rest of us laugh, this sudden leap from bouncing around the house to exhaustion. No neglect here, I promise.