Tonight we spent about twenty minutes stuck in slideshows on our iPhoto program watching images from nearly two autumns ago. Princess at that time was Sunshine’s age now, and it was amusing and sweet to compare/contrast the sisters (at least, that was what I was doing).
- Princess was toddling about extremely bowlegged thanks to that massive cloth diaper. Sunshine is naturally bowlegged.
- Princess was always petite and dainty. Sunshine is and always has been a little chunk. Both suit the girls to a T. I am not the least worried. I know Rascal was once a butterball, and now he’s of the build to excite “string bean” style nicknames. The baby chubb will pass, all too soon, and I am still enjoying every little roll while it lasts.
- They had an equal amount of hair at this age.
- A picture came up with Princess wearing someone’s glasses. She looked just like my sister. Sunshine looks like my late beloved Romanian great-grandmother. Or so I occasionally think.
- Princess still giggles the same (we took a video). I’m hoping Sunshine will, too. Check back in about eighteen months.
- Princess also apparently growled at that age. She’s since stopped that, sort of, unless mad at someone–as when she comes over to me and says “Rascal bonchked the Pwincess!” (translation: my brother just hit/pinched/pushed me whether accidentally or not). In any event, I’m glad she’s outgrown it because that means eventually Sunshine might stop growling, too. 😉 Oh yes, Princess does refer to herself in third person as well sometimes. I don’t know why they do this, unless they are natural born storytellers or they are used to hearing themselves spoken of on the phone as I call my Mom with the latest escapade.
- Sunshine is louder. Much louder. I think that is because she sees herself as the littlest and therefore must enable herself to be heard over everyone else.
We also came across pictures from the time Princess was about a month old or so. She looked like a miniature version of herself–just quiet, asleep, tiny, and with a lot less hair. At that point part of me was really hoping that Munchkin will end up being a girl. But then there were the pictures of the boys at that time. How adorable they looked in their blanket sleepers! Was that really my little Dinosaur? Look, dear, how little they appear sitting in those chairs–compared to how we see them today! Ok, at that point I was hoping Munchkin is a boy. Past pictures are apparently not good on the pregnant mind. Next week is my big 20 week ultrasound, and I am going to find out if I can who our Munchkin will be. We already have names picked out, and honestly we will be ecstatic either way. I thought once a week or two ago that I would let us be surprised by this one and NOT find out, but my husband wisely vetoed that, probably aware that my resolve would eventually crumble during the sonogram.
Further effects of this foray into past photography on my pregnancy brain: tonight’s post was supposed to be about books. I turned on iPhoto on purpose to show Haus Meister some pictures I had taken of our shelves today. As you can see, images of cute pink bundles of joy completely derailed me.