Pre-bub, I swore I wouldn’t do it. Rave on and on (and on and on and on) about this latest milestone of Ashleigh’s, or that latest accomplishment. But I do. Even when I see my friends’ eyes glazing over as I mention that Ashleigh can put the blocks on the rainbow stacker by herself now. Or that she says ‘nom nom’ when she’s hungry. Or ‘giddup’ when she wants a horsey ride. Or that she can climb up the lattice ladder at the park by herself.
Sometimes I throw in a crazy comment just to see if my friends are still listening. “Yeah, she played Flight of the Bumblebee on the piano yesterday. Just sat down and played it after hearing it once. Amazing.” “Uh-huh.” “And then she backflipped off the piano stool and stood on her head.” “Mmm-hmmm.” “Are you listening to me?” “What? Yeah, of course, go Ashleigh.”
Sorry. I know it’s boring. But I’m telling you now, it won’t stop. And I promise that when the situation is reversed, I will smile and nod when you tell me that your child can now use a spoon, or build a block tower, or balance complicated chemical equations while dancing a Viennese Waltz.