In the beginning, there was a Peanut.
Peanut was little more than a dot on an ultrasound tucked cozily into a tiny gestational sac.
And then the Peanut morphed into a wiggly, little Fish.
The fish would swim and thrash around the fish bowl, fluttering and flapping its new, little fins excitedly.
Most recently, however, Fish has turned into a Squish.
Squish is big and strong and likes to squish everything in it’s immediate surroundings.
My lungs are squished.
My intestines are squished.
My stomach is squished.
My ribs are squished.
I’m pretty sure Squish has lodged itself into my right ribcage.
Every once in a while things go from Squishy to stabby in there.
I’m not really surprised Fish turned into a Squish, though.
You see I have a nose that certain family members like to refer to as squishy.
So squishy, in fact, they have to give it a good smoosh every time they see me.
Well, imagine my surprise when some baby pictures of P-Daddy came in the mail last week, courtesy of his Grandma.
Guess who else has a squishy nose?
So, I’m pretty sure the Squish is gonna have a smoosh-able nose just like Mom and Dad.
It’s hard not to wonder what other features the Squish will inherit.
P-Daddy and I are pretty much polar opposites.
He is tall with dark hair.
I am short and was born with bleach blond peach fuzz.
He was also a teeny baby weighing in at just around 6 pounds.
I, however, tipped the scales at well above 8 pounds.
So, who will Squish take after?
Perhaps it doesn’t matter and Squish will simply be Squish.
Squish does have a real name, by the way.
But Squish is saving the surprise for the Birth Day party.
Which I kind of hope is sooner rather than later!