I have just had authentication that my daughter is indeed my own. I know, some of you may be wondering how I as a mother whom was very present for my daughters birth how I question her parentage. She was 10 pounds 2 ounces, believe me I was there. Allow my to explain.
Our tribe is three members strong. Here are baby pictures of all of them.
Brace yourself, the trend continues…..
The worst part is they are all little mini-me’s to their father:
I have confused baby pictures of my children, I have confused baby pictures of my husband with my children. Taylor is currently a dead ringer for his dad at age 3. If we were cows our reliability would be disgustingly high. This has become quite the joke.
I really thought I had my chance with Henry. He was born with dark peach fuzz, lots of my features. Hopes were high! All to be dashed by one month of age. Then he was measuring small at his doctors appointments. Not much above average. The elder tribe members are not average. They are very tall, off growth charts tall. This does not come from all 5 foot 3 inches of me. I thought he may not look like me but maybe he will have my body type. Don’t fear by his four month appointment he’s shot up to the 90th percentile. All…Hopes….Gone…..
I have come to the conclusion my children will not look like me, will not be built like me. I had accepted that I would be the one who looked like they didn’t belong in family photos. I started to question if babies had been switched at the hospital… but then today my daughter gave me hope that we share the same DNA!
I turned on the TV after we came in from working in flower beds. What is on but a Tom Petty concert. She danced, she sang (tried to) and enjoyed it, not wanting me to change the channel. She is mine!!! You see Tom Petty has been my favorite musician since I was younger than Emma. I could sing all his songs for you, but for the sake of your ear drums I will not. I will let him.