I'm probaby doing it all wrong...

 

There are some unwritten rules about parenthood.  And I’m probably breaking most of them.

 

 Charlotte loves raw cookie dough.  Oatmeal raisin is her favorite.

 

 

 We have one of those Bumbo chairs. The ones that got recalled because people put them on counters and tables and when their babies rocked back and forth they fell off.  We’re going to keep ours.  And we’re going to use it.  Along with some common sense.

 

 

 

She drinks goat's milk so she always smells like a dirty, French farmer.

 

 

 

 

And she naps on her tummy.

 

 

 

All.

 

 

 

The.

 

 

 

Time.

 

 

 

 

She also listens to the Irish Rovers and has watched COPS with me almost every day since she was born. 

 

 

 

But we’re having fun.  And after our traumatic beginnings, we’re finally starting to bond.

 

 And for now that’s enough to make me feel like I’m doing a friggin’ fantastic job.

 

 So we’ll take our chances thank you very much.  Cause we’ve already beat some much narrower odds.