An Ode to Our Baby

I cannot believe that our sweet luscious slab of Mexi-baby is only going to be our "baby" for a few more months.

Well, insufferably long, interminable months, but anyway.

Sometimes I think it's happening a little too fast; our poor Sylvie - she'll only be twenty months before she has to contend with another screecher.  These two girls (did I mention #6 is a girl?  Oh yes, the Brady Bunch here.  Except I cranked out ALL of them my own self.  Take that, Mrs. Brady!) will be our closest in age; yes, instead of decelerating our dizzying reproductive rate, we are AC-celerating.  Whah?

But I only worry about this close-ish spacing for about five seconds; Sylvie has gotten quite a bit of attention in her mere seventeen months on the planet.  And I think she will get a kick out of another baby.

She's a feisty little bugger.  She can take on three brothers at once, and can crack them up just by saying "Sponge Bob" in Sylvie-speak.  How we adore this little firecracker - I don't think she'll let anyone upstage her.  Oh, and Sylvie?  If you could start sleeping through the night before your little sister arrives, that would score you some serious points. 

Grazie.