Four thousand words.

Mmmm. Cupcake.

Walking at the park.

Number One and Boy Cousin.

Hangin' with Auntie A and Girl Cousin.

Happy Birthday!

Wow.  It's hard to believe it's been a whole year.

Well, actually, a year and a day.  A day late and a dollar short.  That's how I roll as a Dad.  Pretty awesome, right?

This time last year, I was trying to sleep with Number One balanced on my chest.  Mom was afraid I'd drop her.  I didn't.  No way.

Now she walks.  Has her own shoes.  Follows me from room to room saying, "Da...da...da" over and over.   She knows what I'm saying.  Tries to tell me things.  Is pretty fucking awesome.

She had one birthday party already with Boy Cousin.  Tomorrow she's rocking her own party.  A good time shall be had by all.

Poopy, poopity.

So, most people probably think that we're crazy for trying to teach Number One how to use the potty on her own when she's less than one year old.

Still it's a total victory when I catch both a pee and a potty in the morning, like I did today.  Boo-motherfuckin'-ya.

Cleaning up a potty bum is about 1000 times easier than the same bum if the potty had occurred in the nappy.  

Even if she does end up anal retentive - it's worth it.

Post-Ike update.

Let's see.  What's happened in the last couple of weeks?

Oh, yeah.  Hurricane.   No power for 12 days.

Then there was something else...What was it?  

That's it! Number One started walking!  It's a natural disaster miracle!  The doctors said she'd never walk again, but she showed them!  I give a little thanks every day to that godforsaken Ike.

Not really.  Well, really she is walking, but the doctors never told us she wouldn't.  I made that up.

So what's the deal now?  Does she have to start wearing shoes and stuff?  

Innocence lost.