Small, but getting bigger

Skipper is about to turn one year old. That's AMAZING. Wasn't I just pregnant about 3 days ago? Wasn't she lying around weighing 8 pounds, making weird noises and aimlessly waving her arms about thirty seconds ago? Where did this massive practically-a-toddler come from? This kid who signs sentences* at me, confidently slides down off the bed backward, invents** her own signs, and thinks (obviously complicated) thoughts about physics?

While I'm on this topic, holy shit, where did that OTHER kid come from? The one who can reach the cup shelf, recently learned that 3 is not actually pronounced "free," is losing her fourth tooth, and can ALMOST snap? Where did that kid come from? Wait, wasn't SHE just a baby, too?

Now I begin to understand why people who remember my infancy never quite seem to have gotten used to the idea that I am an adult.*** It really just seems impossible. I know, in theory, that Dutch and Skipper will become grownups, and will come over to visit me and irritatedly attempt to teach me how to correctly tune the reality anathemizer.**** I will control my impulse to tickle them, most likely, but I probably won't ever quite believe their adulthood.

*Okay, that sounds way more impressive than it is. Her one and only sentence so far is this: "More. NURSE." and I'm sure that if she knew a sign for "Right NOW, goddamnit," we'd see a fair amount of it.

** She invented a sign for "tickle." Go ahead and tell me that isn't the cutest thing in the whole freaking world. Well, except this.

***Well, okay. Point taken.

****"Mom. Just tap this zone over here and then blink three times. MOM!! Come ON, Mom, this is NOT HARD."